


Face Down

by MrBendezedrine



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Cancer, Chicago (City), Child Abuse, F/M, M/M, Missing Persons, On the Run, Original Character Death(s), offscreen death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2018-11-29 02:38:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 52,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11431425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrBendezedrine/pseuds/MrBendezedrine
Summary: Skye was close with her dad. He was not only her father, but her best friend and her second half. When her father is diagnosed with cancer, Skye's life begins to crumble. For the next two years, her life is a cliché, a roller coaster that has its ups and downs, its twists and turns, as her father battles cancer and her mother turns to alcohol and violence. But after two years, Skye has had enough.Face down in the dirt, she said "this doesn't hurt," she said "I've finally had enough."





	1. Prologue

_May 27, 2012_

The day after my 17th birthday.

The day before my mother started her addiction with alcohol.

The day my father was diagnosed with cancer.

They say that life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass; it's about learning to dance in the rain. Well, it's hard to dance when you're dancing alone.

My father was not only my dad, but my best and only friend, and my second half. I knew him better than I knew myself, to be honest. So when I was sitting in pre-calc and was called to the office to receive the news from my sobbing mother, I was devastated. My whole world came crashing down.

My siblings were utterly confused. They were so young, too young. They turned one not even a month ago. How were we going to tell them that their father was dying as we speak? No one should have to go through battling cancer. No one should have to deal with the pain of seeing a loved one fight this battle. At the age of one, the most loss they should have to deal with is saying goodbye to a beloved blanket or toy.

But my father was that blanket. When we visited him in the hospital, lying in the hospital bed, he appeared to be fine, just a little tired. Like a blanket that was still soft and comfy, just a little worn out.

But the blanket started to fray at the ends. As the months went by, he grew weaker and weaker. By thanksgiving, the blanket had ripped.

 

_November 23, 2012_

The day they found a tumor in my father's leg.

The doctors said it wasn't terminal. It was a small tumor at the bottom of his leg. Just a few sessions of chemo should get rid of the tumor. The worst thing that could happen is that they may have to amputate his leg if the tumor didn't go away in a few months.

Like stitching together a blanket. Like cutting off the corner with a hole that grew bigger each time it seemed to be fixed.

 

_December 14, 2012_

But the doctors didn't have to go there. By Christmas, my father was healthy and well. He showed no signs of cancer and didn't have tumors of any kind. He was no longer bedridden and joined the family on Christmas Eve.

My mother had given up her addiction with alcohol. I had stopped sulking over the thought of him being gone, my grades went back up. My siblings were still confused, but they were just happy that their blanket was as good as new.

 

_May 27, 2013_

The day after my 18th birthday.

One year after my father's diagnosis with cancer.

The day the blanket became torn.

The tumors were back.

His leg, his arm, his hand.

When we thought the storm had passed, when we thought we would dance again, it was just the eye of the hurricane. We were only halfway through. It was back, and it was stronger than before.

My mother began drinking not even a day later. I came home from school the next day to find her passed out drunk in a puddle of scotch and her own vomit. I was the one who had to clean her up and put her to bed.

My siblings were confused as to why their mother was passed out. "Mommy was just really tired from work and took a little nap." I had explained to them.

"Is that what Daddy has been doing?" That question hit me hard. I replied with a simple nod, holding back tears. I put them down for their nap and ran off to my room, where I began sobbing hysterically.

Yet again, the doctors said the tumors weren't terminal. They were in his limbs, far from his major organs. They weren't near his heart, or lungs, or brain. They gave us the same speech as they did last time. A few sessions of chemo should get rid of it. The worst they had to do was amputate his limbs.

Like a blanket being stitched together. Like a blanket having the frayed ends being cut off.

 

_July 14, 2013_

The holes in the blanket stretch by the day.

The chemo had worked on my father at first, heck, the tumor in his hand was already gone. However, the ones in his arm and leg show no signs of disappearing. It had only been a month. However, the tumors were beginning to spread, and threatened to become terminal.

Where was my mother during all of this? Normally, she would either be at the bar, drinking away her problems that belonged to someone else, or doing the same at home. I wound up taking care of my father and my siblings. I had become their second mother.

Due to this, I ended up not even applying to colleges. If I left, there would be no one to take care of my father, no one to look after my siblings, no one to stop my mother from drinking. Yes, on occasion, I have stopped her. But I could never stop her, for she was the broken toy of a child, one that wouldn't turn off or stop beeping.

So we were losing both our blanket and our toy. What a catch.

My mother had also lost her job. After flushing all of her money on liquor and medical bills, we had hardly any left. Hardly any money for medical bills, food, electricity and water bills, let alone college. We were sinking deeper and deeper in debt.

I worked three jobs, sometimes all three in one day, just to put food on the table. I was beginning to become my own blanket.

 

_August 12, 2013_

My father's 48th birthday.

The tumors were gone.

My dad was now cancer free. We celebrated the news with a barbecue in our backyard. My mom even sobered up for a day. She got drunk from time to time afterward, but it was never as bad as it used to. On multiple occasions, she would turn violent, and I would hide my siblings in their room while she drank until she passed out. But after my father had been cancer free for a month, she had stopped binge drinking.

It was probably the best birthday my father ever had.

Little did we know that it would be his last.

 

_November 21, 2013_

The blanket had been ripped, no, shredded.

They found not one, not two, but five tumors.

His leg, his arm, his lungs, his head, his heart.

Three out of the five were life threatening.

I bet you can guess which ones they were.

The doctors tried everything they could. It began with surgery, which did little to help. They stuck with chemo, which again, did almost nothing.

I feared that he wouldn't make it.

How is it that just one year ago, they found his first tumor? Just one year. A lot can happen in a year.

Over 131 million people are born. 55 million people die. 7.6 million are from cancer.

Just over 13%. 13.6432188065099% to be exact. Out of everyone who died each year, almost 14% of those are from cancer. 140 out of 1,000. 14 out of 100. 1.4 out of 10.

If you are in a class of 20 people, 2 or 3 of those people will die from cancer, if the rates continue by the time we all have to face death.

Fearing that he wouldn't make it is foolish. Everyone is going to die. Death is inevitable. No matter what we do to try to stop it, we simply cannot.

Most of us want to live until we're 100. Until we're old enough to see our children, grandchildren, perhaps even great-grandchildren and great great grandchildren be born and grow up. We hope to live as long as possible, live a full life with no regrets, to die peacefully in our sleep.

But that is foolish too.

Nobody's tomorrows are guaranteed. To live in the future is impossible. To live in the past is foolish. To live in the present is sensible. You can't control your future; you can't erase your past. However, you are always in control of the present. Every move you make you will never make again. As the teens may say, you only live once. But if you live it right, once is enough.

 

_December 24, 2013_

Christmas Eve.

A time of joy, the peak of the Holiday season.

" 'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; the stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there. The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads... "

'Twas the night before Christmas.

'Twas the night my father passed.

I locked myself in my room and didn't sleep that night. I had never slept on Christmas Eve. Normally it was due to the fact that I was bouncing off the walls, waiting for 'Santa' to put our presents under the tree and fill our stockings with candy.

But now Santa was gone.

I must have cried non-stop for at least 12 hours. At first, they were the cries that shake through your body, that leave you hyperventilating and gasping for air. After I felt like I would pass out from lack of oxygen, I began sobbing until I had no tears left. Yet they kept coming.

I was nearly dry heaving. My breath would escape my body in rasps that threatened to tear apart my lungs. My eyes were no longer producing any tears, no snot came from my nose, and my saliva wasn't everywhere. Yet I continued to cry. And cry. And cry. For the remainder of the night, I did stupid shit i an attempt to make me feel better, including looking up crappy inspirational quotes on tumblr. But they were pointless and stupid. And I kept coming across this one quote that I absolutely hated.

"Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass. It's about learning to dance in the rain."

Well, it's pretty hard to dance when you're dancing alone.

 

_January 26, 2014_

Psychologists say that there are 5 stages of grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. I'd like to say that I had moved on to stage 3. To the _what if_ s and _if only_ s.

But my mother was stuck on stage 2.

One month after my father passed.

The day my mother became violent.

As usual, my mother was drunk as ever. Sometimes she would take beer bottles and smash them against the kitchen counter, all whilst screaming. This would be the point where I would try to get my siblings to be quiet, to relax and take a nap. But they didn't want to. They simply weren't tired.

The wouldn't stop asking about our father.

"Where's Daddy?"

"When will Daddy wake up?"

"Why did Daddy leave us?"

By this time, they were almost three years old. Still not old enough to have gone through this.

They shouldn't have to worry about losing their blanket and their toy.

I wasn't answering any questions. I would just talk to them in a soothing voice, and get them to go to sleep. But they wanted answers. And they were going to get them. If not from me then from Mommy.

Before I could stop them, they were running down the stairs.

"Mommy, where's Daddy?"

"When will Daddy wake up?"

"Mommy, why did Daddy leave us?"

My mother turned around, half a shattered beer bottle in her hands.

"He's not coming back! He's dead and gone, and it's your fault, you ungrateful little bastards!" She screamed. Her voice could be heard from down the street.

And with that, she slapped my brother so hard he flew across the floor, and she kicked my sister in the gut while she joined my brother on the cold kitchen tile.

"How dare you! They're two years old! They had nothing to do with Dad's cancer and you know that! They're concerned and confused and the only thing you ever are is pissed drunk! You don't give a damn about anyone but yourself anymore! Do you know what he said to me about you in the hosp-"

And that was when she brought back her beer bottle and smashed it into my skull.


	2. Chapter One

_Face down in the dirt_

_She said, "This doesn't hurt"_

_She said, "I've finally had enough"_

Oh, how I wish this was entirely true. I wish that I had that faith and power to say that it didn't hurt. But it did.

I don't think people can realize how much having an abusive family member can hurt. The daily beatings, the scars that don't want to fade, the wounds that don't want to heal. People may compare it to violence on the streets, like getting mugged or jumped. They say "Oh yeah, I know how you feel." But they don't.

People don't realize how much it hurts on an emotional level.

Besides living in fear of constant attacks, of course. But they don't know what it's like to see someone you love turn into a monster. The person that carried you in their body for nine months, raised you for seventeen years, just completely change before your very eyes. To watch them scream in pain every day and drink away their problems. To take out their anger on their own children. The woman that I loved the most in my life was my mother. But this wasn't my mother. This was a stranger, under the influence, living in my mother's body.

That's another thing people don't realize. When someone mentions an abusive family member, they immediately picture the male figure. It's always the father, the brother, the husband, the boyfriend, the son. But people don't realize women can be abusive, too. They are as capable of men when it comes to hurting their loved ones.

In fact, it may even cut deeper. Yes, males are typically more aggressive, more violent. They'll leave you marks and scars and bruises that will litter your skin for life. But women know how to cut, and how to make it hurt. They'll leave marks under the skin, wounds deeper than any knife can cut.

_May 27, 2014._

The day after my nineteenth birthday.

Two years after the diagnosis.

Nearly two years of the alcohol addiction.

One year after they found the second set of tumors.

Five months of my father being gone, four months of my abusive mother.

Face down in the dirt, I've had enough.

My mother was the drunkest I have ever seen her. Definitely drunk enough to be in the hospital. From my bedroom, I could hear her screams among the shattering of glass. Her drunken footsteps echoed throughout the stairwell, the sound circling up to the bedrooms. Until one foot slipped, and she tumbled down the steps. I raced out of my room to see her sprawled out at the bottom of the steps. She was either dead or passed out. And to be honest, I didn't care which one it was.

I rummaged through my closet to find my duffel bag, collecting dust inside. I stuffed my clothes in, along with necessities I could find in my room and bathroom. Toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo. Having only taken up half of the space with my few possessions, I packed for my siblings.

"What are you doing Skye?"

"Are we going to visit Daddy?"

I turned to them.

"I'm afraid not. Daddy has gone to a special place where only grown-ups go. He wasn't old enough to go, but because he's so special, the angels let him in early. We won't be seeing him for a long time, sweetie." I said with a fake smile.

Everything was packed. The bag was filled with our necessities. I had a small handbag with the little cash I had, my iPod Nano, and my worthless flip phone. And then there was my guitar.

My guitar. My most prized possession. I was better with a bass, but the guitar will always be special to me. My dad bought me this just over 10 years ago, for my 9th birthday. He was the one who had taught me how to play. Shortly after, I had taught myself the bass. I rarely played over the past two years, especially with my mother always around. She would just yell at me for making noise. How ironic.

That was one thing I regret. Not playing for my dad one more time. I also sang a bit, and I wish I had played just one more song for him in the hospital. Now, my hands were itching to play some song about loss from cancer, like 'Wake Me up When September Ends" or even just 'Cancer'. Yes, I had my father to thank for my excellent taste in music. While I was growing up, he would always play music around the house. Green Day, Blink-182, Good Charlotte, Nirvana, Queen, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, the good stuff.

I took one last look around my room. This would most likely be the last time I ever saw it. Thank God.

"Okay now, we have to be really quiet so we don't wake up Mommy, okay? We're gonna be spies!" I whispered with fake enthusiasm to Ryan and Rose.

"Like James Bond?" Ryan's face lit up. How he knew who James Bond was at the age of three, that was beyond me.

"Yes, now keep quiet! Mommy can't know, or else our cover will be blown, and we can't be spies anymore!" That seemed to stop the questions from coming. We stepped over our passed out mother, and up to the front door.

The cold, midnight air bit us in the face, even though it was the end of May. But in our town, just outside of Woodstock, Illinois, it would always get cold at night. I blamed the wind chill.

After many failed attempts at picking the lock on the driver's door of my mother's car, I was finally in. After making sure that my siblings were secure in the backseat, I put the duffel and my guitar in the passenger seat and hot-wired the car.

Hot-wiring and pick locking. Two things I taught myself on those nights that my mother was so drunk at the bar that I had to pick her up. I guess those are the only two things I could thank my drunken mother for at the moment. But then again, if she weren't an alcoholic, then we wouldn't have no money. I would be in college, Ryan and Rose would be in preschool, and she would still have her job and she wouldn't have become abusive and we wouldn't be in this mess.

But we were in this mess. And we were currently just an hour and twenty minutes away from somewhere where we could escape her.

Chicago.


	3. Chapter Two

They say that what we want and what we are trying to escape are the very same thing.

This was true to an extent.

I wanted my mother back. I was not escaping  _her_ , but rather the thing she had become.

I wanted my father back. I did not escape him, more than cancer had forced him to escape us.

I wanted my life back. I was escaping my current life, one with no father and an abusive mother, but what I wanted was my old life, with my healthy father and mentally sane mother.

What we want can often be confused with what we need. What I thought I needed was a strong father figure in my life, someone to look after me, but that is what I had wanted. What I needed was for myself to be that father figure. I had to look over not only myself, but my two younger siblings.

We don't always get what we want. I wanted a car to take into Chicago. Unfortunately, that was not what I got.

I groaned in frustration as I banged my fist on the steering wheel. I was currently pulled over on the side of a dirt road. Not only was I completely lost, but we were out of gas. I only had so much money, and with gas prices rising by the day, we couldn't exactly afford a full tank of gas.

"Skye, where are we?" Ryan tugged on the back of my shirt as we walked down an abandoned path, leading away from the highway.

"We're going on a mini vacation! We're going to go to Chicago, someday we might live there! How does that sound?" I said, trying my best to sound enthusiastic.

"I wanna go home." Rose whined, stomping her feet. I sighed and continued to walk down the path. To be honest, I had no clue which way we were going. I had a feeling we were going towards Chicago, but I couldn't be too sure. We had no map, no GPS, and no smartphone to tell us where to go.

The sun kept sinking lower and lower in the sky as we made our way down the road. As the sun began to set, I began to lose hope. We were obviously going the wrong way. Surely, if we were going into the city, we would have at least passed some sort of gas station or convenience store or something, right?

The sun had finally set. Tears were beginning to form in my eyes. I was a failure. I tried to do what was best for my siblings and me, to escape my mother, but I just made it worse, as usual. Now, we had little money, no food, and we were lost. We were probably going to starve to death or die of thirst, if we weren't eaten by wild animals first.

I looked up and gasped. Through my clouded vision, I could see an illuminated sign.

_Shell Gas Station and Convenience Store._

_Open 24/7_

My pace quickened and I tugged my siblings' arms behind me. I ran into the store, a bell ringing to signal that a customer had arrived.

"Excuse me, but where am I?" I questioned the single cashier in the store. He pulled out a map behind the counter, and pointed to it.

"You're here, just about 5 miles from Chicago. Is that we're you're trying to go?" I quickly nodded my head. "Just follow this road you're on now for about two miles, and you'll end up on an actual road. Follow it to the end, it's about another two miles. You're not supposed to, but if you walk through the woods at the end of the road, in a mile, you'll be in Chicago." He explained.

"Thank you thank you so much." I praised the man. I was about to leave when I realized I should probably buy supplies while I'm here. I used my money sparingly, buying only three bottles of water, three protein bars, and three apples. I could always buy more food in Chicago once I got some money. I managed to keep my total just above $15, which could have been less, but I also bought a map and a flashlight.

After thanking the cashier multiple times, we finally left.

"Skye, are we still playing spies?" Rose tugged on the back of my shirt. We were almost at the end of the dirt road, so I turned to face her.

"Not anymore, sweetie. When you were sleeping in the car, I defeated the bad guys with my awesome ninja skills." I struck a ridiculous pose, making her giggle. "Now we're going to Chicago, we needed a small vacation, and we might live there! How does that sound?" There was a moment of silence before Ryan spoke instead.

"I miss Mommy. Why did she become a meanie?" Ryan asked. I squatted down so I was face to face with them.

"I miss Mommy too. Mommy got really upset when she found out Daddy was sick. She was just mad about that, and she turned a little mean. Now, I know you guys are upset about Mommy and Daddy, too. But you can't be a meanie, okay? Being a meanie doesn't help your problems. It makes you a bad person." I said before pulling them into a long hug. "Now c'mon, we need a vacation."

We followed the cashier's directions to the city. When we got to the woods, I took out my flashlight, as I held on to Ryan's hand, and he held on to Rose. Once we emerged from the woods, we were fascinated by the city. There were no more stars in the sky, but the city lights were the city's stars. We made our way into the city, and ended up just roaming around for a good hour, awestruck. We finally ended up in a subway station, and collapsed against the wall from exhaustion.

\-------------------------------------

_So take the photographs, and still frames in your mind_

_Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time_

_Tattoos and memories and dead skin on trial_

_For what it's worth, it was worth all the while_

After waking up in the subway station, I was surprised and relieved to find that we were still there, and none of our possessions were taken. Falling asleep in the middle of Chicago was not exactly the best idea.

I figured the easiest way to make money was to be one of those street performers. My voice was ringing out through the station, accompanied by the sound of my acoustic guitar. My case was sitting in front of me, open, collecting tips. So far, all I had was some change, which probably added up to two dollars, at the most.

I didn't mind though. I didn't expect to gain a ton of money by doing this. I managed to smile at everyone who did pitch in, some people complimenting me on my voice, others on my guitar playing, and others on my taste in music. Thank God not everyone listened to Justin Beiber these days, and that good music still existed.

_It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right_

_I hope you had the time of your life_

I closed my eyes and pretended that I wasn't in some random subway station in some random city. I pretended that I was in heaven, singing to my father. He was gone, but his memory wasn't. I didn't quite believe in the afterlife, but if there was something, I wished he was looking down at me now, hearing me playing to him. I hope he had the time of his life. I hope he remembered all of the memories we shared, and although my siblings were only one when he was diagnosed with cancer, I hope he remembered that one year. When we were a happy family of five, with plenty of money and joy.

I finished up the song and played the outro. When I did, I smiled to myself. That part was a bit tricky, and that was one of the only times I played that song all the way through without missing a single note. My voice had also grown better, whether it was with confidence or that I just put more emotion into it.

I saw two pieces of paper land into the case. I glanced at it, expecting it to be a couple of singles. But no, someone had dropped in a fifty and a twenty. I looked up, eyed wide.

"Sorry, I would have dropped in more, but this is all the cash I have on me at the moment." A man said. He was wearing all black, jeans, a t-shirt, a leather jacket and converse, along with glasses and a crooked fedora on top of his head.

"No, no, this is just," I trailed off, unable to think of anything to say. He sat down next to me. " _Amazing_ " was all that came out.

"Well, I'm glad that I could help. You're very talented. I'm Patrick, by the way." He extended his hand with a smile.

"Skye." Was all I could manage to say, as I was still taken back by his kind actions. Some stranger who I had never seen in my life, just gave me seventy dollars for just singing a song.

"You're an amazing guitarist, not just a singer. I'm both, and that outro can be tricky sometimes." He said as I blushed.

"Thanks, but I'm better with a bass. You're a Green Day fan?" I questioned, trying to start up a conversation.

"Yea, they're one of my favorite bands. They got me through some tough times as a teenager." His voice grew quieter by the end of his sentence.

"Yeah, me too." I whispered. We sat in silence for a couple of minutes. Although we had just met, it wasn't an awkward silence. It was a comfortable silence. I knew I probably shouldn't trust this man. There were so many people out there who were just looking to cause harm. Especially in a city, you don't know who to trust and who not to. But this man seemed nice, if he wanted to hurt me, why not do it while I was asleep, instead of giving my seventy dollars?

"My train was delayed for a bit, do you think you can play another song for me?" He said after a while.

"Uh, sure, I guess. Do you have any requests?"

He thought for a bit before saying, "Do you know the song  _Sugar, We're_ _Goin Down_?" My fingers hesitated for a minute over the guitar strings. I knew that voice. There was a reason why I trusted this man. I looked over at him, and he had a cheeky grin on his face.

"Bit conceded to want to hear your own song so badly, don't you think?" I gave him a smirk.

"So you do know who I am?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Not at first, but yes, I do. Sorry, it's just, I normally don't pay much attention to the media, and especially not the past couple of years, and wow, you just look so different. And,  _holy crap_  I'm talking to Patrick Stump." He chuckled at my response.

"Yes, I lost a bit of weight over the years. And since you said you haven't paid much attention to the media lately, I'll fill you in. I'm in a band, Fall Out Boy, you probably know that, and we broke up in 2009. You probably know that too. We all kept playing music; I went on a small solo career and released an album. And then about a year ago, Fall Out Boy got back together, and we released a new album,  _Save Rock And Roll._ "

My eyes grew wide. "You're kidding, you guys are back together? That's awesome! I'm listening to that album the second I get a chance!" He chuckled at my enthusiasm.

Just then a train pulled in. "Well, this is my ride. It was great meeting you Skye. And don't stop playing music, you're amazing. Will I see you here again?" He asked.

"Probably. I don't really have a job right now. I'll see you soon, I guess." I said with a wave.

"See you soon Skye." He turned around and hopped on the train. I decided to call it a day, so I counted my earnings in my case. I had just about $75, $70 of that thanks to Patrick. On one side of the twenty, however, was a post it note.

_Your voice is amazing. Call me sometime? (555) 555-5555 -Patrick ;)_

Smooth move, Patrick. Smooth move.


	4. Chapter Three

I've always hated inspirational quotes.

Seriously, they're so easy to prove wrong.

" _Fall seven times, stand up eight."_ What If I fall six times? What if I fall eight times? What if I never fall? What if I can't get back up? What about when you die? When you fall and die, can you still get back up? I think not.

_"The quieter you become, the more you can hear."_ False. When you're being loud, you can hear the sounds around you, as well as the sounds you are making. When you are quiet, there are no sounds that you make, so you can only hear the sounds around you.

And how is that last one inspirational? What is it inspiring me to do, be quiet? Oh hey, I just got abused by my mother for four or five months, should I just do nothing about it and keep quiet?

Yes.

_"Sometimes before it gets better, the darkness gets bigger. The person that you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger."_

I stuck by my promise that I would listen to  _Save Rock and Roll_  as soon as possible. In fact, the next day, I walked around Chicago, looking for a music store. It took almost an hour, but I finally found one where you could listen to full albums, not just snippets of them.

It was a small store, yet it was very comforting. The navy blue carpet matched the color of the walls, yet they were hardly visible, as they were lined with musical instruments, including some of the most beautiful basses I had seen. The center of the store was filled with rack upon racks of CDs and vinyls. I spent a good ten minutes rummaging through them, looking at all the records I wanted a copy of, but never had the money to afford.

Once I broke my trance of fangirling over the records, I quickly found a CD of  _Save Rock and Roll_. I went over to a small machine in the corner of the store, right by the basses.

I was currently in the middle of  _Miss Missing You_  when I heard that line. The thing that I loved about this album was that it sounded all happy go lucky, but some of the lyrics were darker. For example, " _C'mon make it easy, say I never mattered."_ or  _"Sometimes before it gets better, the darkness gets bigger. The person that you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger."_

Although I said I hated inspirational quotes, I absolutely loved them in music. Probably because they weren't always inspirational, they were just extremely relatable. Just as the song  _Death Valley_  came on, I realized my siblings were running around the store, screaming. I groaned in frustration, I loved them to bits, but they were a handful.

"Hey Ryan, Rose! Do you wanna listen to some music?" I asked them as soon as I got to calm down. They nodded. I led them over to the CDs and watched as they picked one out.

"Skye, can I listen to Justin Beiber?" Rose asked. I snatched the CD out of her hand.

"No!" I almost shouted. "Justin Beiber is a terrible artist. You'll be wasting your time. I'm not raising you to like him. Now go pick something else out." I put the CD back where it came from. I rolled my eyes. Three year olds, am I right?

I turned around once I heard a soft chuckle behind me. "I'm glad you're one of the few people that still has good taste in music." Stumpy said. Wait,  _Stumpy?_

"Can I call you Stumpy?" I blurted out, as his cheeks turned a light red. "Sorry, it was just a random thought. You don't have to answer that."

"No it's okay. I kinda like it." He said, looking down again.

"Stranger danger!" I heard Ryan yell as he grabbed on to my leg. Rose soon followed and did the same thing. I winced, I had some bruises there. I hope Patrick didn't notice. I pulled down my sleeves a bit, just to make sure no bruises or scars were showing.

_I'm sorry_  I mouthed to Patrick, before looking down at them. "Don't worry, he's not a stranger. This is my friend, Patrick. I was talking to him in the subway yesterday." They still didn't move. "C'mon, say hi." I said. They still wouldn't budge.

"Aw, they're cute." He crouched down to them. "I'm Patrick. What's your name?" He said with a smile as they ran away. I tried to cover up a small laugh.

"I'm sorry, they're not very social." I tried to cheer him up once I saw him frown.

"They're your siblings?" He asked.

"Yea, they're twins, they're only three. Their names are Alex and Alexa, but I call them by their middle names, Ryan and Rose, and even then, I still get confused."

He laughed. "My parents said if they ever had another child, and it was a girl, they would name her Patricia. I don't get why people do that, it confuses me so much."

"Be glad you have an actual name. My parents named me  _Skye._ " I scoffed.

"But that's pretty! At least your last name isn't white or blue or anything." I frowned at his comment. "What?"

"My last name is Black." I said, looking down.

"Skye Black. It has a nice ring to it. What's your middle name?"

I looked down again. "Blu." I whispered as I felt my cheeks heat up.

"Blue, as in the color?" He said.

"Yea. Take the e off of the end, and add it to my first name. Skye Blu Black." I felt my face getting redder and redder.

"Man your parents must have been something." I bit my lip at his comment. I'm sure my face was burning bright red.

"Something like that." I whispered, trying to fight the flashbacks. It didn't work, and I could feel my eyes tearing up.  _Goddamit Skye._  I turned away before he noticed.  _Too late._  Just as he was about to say something, Rose rushed over with a CD.

"What do you have there, Rose?" I asked, praying that she didn't grab One Direction this time. Instead of showing it to me, she ran to Patrick.

"It's you!" She squealed. I turned around, confused. I looked at the CD she had.  _Soul Punk by Patrick Stump._

"Damn, you just love your own music, don't you?" I asked with a smile, referring to when he asked me to sing  _Sugar, We're Goin Down._

"There's nothing wrong with liking your own music." He flashed a smile. After a minute or two of silence, I finally spoke again.

"Well, we should really get going now." I grabbed my bag and guitar, before starting to walk out with Ryan and Rose.

"Hey!" He called after me. I turned around. "Why do you still have your bags? I'll help you if you want, I can give you a ride to your home-"

"No, no, it's okay!" I cut him off. "Uh, we just got a new hotel right in the area, so we're moving there for a bit."

"But there's no hotels near-"

"Bye Patrick!" I ran off before he could ask any more questions.

\------------------------------------

_Baby you were my picket fence_

_I miss missing you now and then_

My voice ran throughout the station once again.  _Miss Missing You_  has been stuck in my head all day yesterday, ever since I listened to the album, so I couldn't help but play it. I had a fairly decent memory, and could more or less remember what chords the song used. I'm sure I played it completely differently than how it actually goes, I think I left out a verse, but no one seemed to care.

I counted my earnings in my case. I had about seven dollars, as I played for longer than I did the other day and yesterday.  _Not bad._  I thought to myself. Apart from the $70 Patrick generously gave me, I only made five dollars the other day, and yesterday I only made about three.

That reminded me. I rummaged in my bag before pulling out the neon orange post it note.

_Your voice is amazing. Call me sometime? (555) 555-5555 -Patrick ;)_

I smiled before writing him a text.

**_To: Patrick_ **

_Hey Patrick, it's Skye from the subway station and the music store :)_

I hit send as Ryan came over to me, complaining. "Skyeeee, we're hungry!" He whined. I grabbed a wattle bottle out of my bag.

"We'll eat later, okay? Share this with Rose, but don't drink all of it. It'll make you less hungry, and it's starting to get hot, you need to drink more water." He nodded before taking the bottle and running off to God knows where. I know, I'm a great babysitter. My phone buzzed beside me with a text.

**_From: Patrick_ **

_Why are you texting me?_

I was taken aback by his text. He probably put two and two together and found out I was some homeless girl. Why would a famous rock star want to talk to me?

**_From: Patrick_ **

_I told you to call me, not text me ;) (sorry if I came off as rude)_

I let out a side of relief before dialing his number.

"Hey!" I said, probably with too much enthusiasm.

"Hey, sorry if my text came off as rude. I tried to be kinda funny or whatever but I failed, sorry." He apologized.

"No, no, it's fine." I waved him off.

He paused for a second before speaking again. "Skye, are you okay? You seemed upset when I mentioned your parents."

"I'm fine." I lied. "Uh, they're just on a business trip right now, and I miss them a lot." I'm pretty sure he could read right through my lie. But he just let it slide.

"So, what's up?" He asked, nonchalantly.

"I just finished playing in the subway again. In fact, I even played  _Miss Missing You_. It's a shame you weren't here, you would have loved it."

I heard a laugh from the other side. "I'm sure I would've. And wow, that was fast. You couldn't have heard that song any earlier than the other day."

I giggled. "I'm pretty sure I butchered it. I think I left out a verse, and God only knows how many notes I missed. And yea, I heard that song yesterday in the music store. I actually didn't get to finish the album, that's the last song I got up to. My siblings are.... a handful." I giggled again. Wait, I  _giggled? Twice?_ I wasn't the type of girl to giggle constantly.  _What the hell?_

There was a pause on the other line for a good minute. He probably heard my giggle and figured I was just a fangirl or something.

"Skye..." He said slowly.

"Yes?" I asked skeptically.

"You're still at the subway station, right?" He questioned.

"Yes, why?" I was still confused.

His voice turned serious. "Don't move. I'm coming to get you and your siblings. You have some explaining to do."


	5. Chapter Four

**_*Patrick's POV*_ **

I couldn't help but think how weird Skye was acting yesterday. Like when her siblings hugged her, she winced, and then when she thought I wasn't looking, she kept pulling down her sleeves. Or like when she got uncomfortable when I mentioned her parents, and then the fact that she carried around her guitar and her duffle bag. Why not just leave it at home?

"Patrick!" I heard Pete shout as soon as I stepped into the apartment.

"What?" I called back, making my way to the kitchen.

"Stop leaving your empty milk cartons in the fridge!" He yelled, throwing the empty carton at me.

I picked it up off the floor and put it on the table. "I leave the empty carton of milk in the fridge to remind us that we need more milk."

"Bullshit, you're just lazy." He said before grabbing his keys.

"Where are you going- oh, OW!" My question was answered when he threw the empty carton at me again.

"Jerk!" I yelled as he made his way to the door. He gave me the finger before walking out. I threw the milk in the recycling and jumped on the couch.

"Hey 'Trick," Andy said, startling me. Joe and Andy were sitting on the other couch, watching the news on TV. How did I not see them?

"Why are we watching the news? Nothing good on TV?" They nodded their heads.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, seeing a text from an unknown number.

**_From: Unknown_ **

_Hey Patrick, it's Skye from the subway station and the music store :)_

I smiled before immediately putting her into my contacts.

"Ooh, Patty's got a girlfriend!" Joe yelled, looking over my shoulder.

"She is not my girlfriend!" I protested. "I just met her the other day!"

"Sure." Andy mumbled, causing me to give him a glare. I texted her back, remembering that I told her to call me.

**_To: Skye_ **

_Why are you texting me?_

"So who is this Skye chick?" Joe interrogated.

"She's this girl I saw playing the guitar in the Subway Station the other day, and yesterday I ran into her in the music store. But she's always acting kind of... weird." I say.

"How so?" He asked, and I explained everything that had happened. I glanced at my phone, wondering why she hasn't called me yet, or even texted me. That's when I realized she probably thought I was being a total jerk, I pretty much told her that I didn't want her to text me. That's not what I meant at all.

**_To: Skye_ **

_I told you to call me, not text me ;) (sorry if I came off as rude)_

She called almost instantly.

"Hey!" She said, very excitedly.

"Hey, sorry if my text came off as rude. I tried to be kinda funny or whatever but I failed, sorry." I starting mumbling before she cut me off.

"No, no, it's fine." Joe and Andy were giving me all sorts of smirks, so I walked to the kitchen.

"Skye, are you okay? You seemed upset when I mentioned your parents." I tried my best to seem concerned.

"I'm fine. Uh, they're just on a business trip right now, and I miss them a lot."

 _Business trip. Haven't heard that excuse before._  I waved it off, not wanting to push it. She was obviously upset, and she didn't need some stranger asking why. "So, what's up?"

"I just finished playing in the subway again. In fact, I even played  _Miss Missing You_. It's a shame you weren't here, you would have loved it." I laughed, as she liked to think I was my own biggest fan.

"I'm sure I would've." That's when I remembered, she only found out about our new album the day I met her. "And wow, that was fast. You couldn't have heard that song any earlier than the other day."

"I'm pretty sure I butchered it. I think I left out a verse, and God only knows how many notes I missed. And yea, I heard that song yesterday in the music store. I actually didn't get to finish the album..." I couldn't hear the rest of what she was saying, as Joe and Andy started yelling at me.

I put my hand over the mic and walked back to the living room. "What?" I hissed. They didn't respond, they just pressed play on the TV, which was paused.

It was one of those 'Have you seen...' ads for missing children that appeared at least once every hour on the news.

"Have you seen these children?" The narrator's voice cut the silence.

My eyes grew wide and I almost dropped the phone. On the screen were three familiar faces.

Skye, Alex, and Alexa.

She was  _missing?_  Questions were racing through my mind.  _What? Why? How? When? What if she was kidnapped? What if someone was forcing her to stay in Chicago? What if she was running away from something, or someone?_

I was silent for at least a good minute.

"Skye..." I said slowly.

"Yes?" She responded hesitantly.

"You're still at the subway station, right?" I questioned.

"Yes, why?" She sounded confused.

"Don't move. I'm coming to get you and your siblings. You have some explaining to do." I hung up.

I turned around to face Joe and Andy. "Record this." I pointed to the TV and sprinted out of my house.  _What if she ran away from someone, and they recognized her? What would they do? Would they hurt her?_ I couldn't bear the thought of someone hurting Skye. She looked so innocent, and she was practically a mother to her siblings.  _What if she actually was their mother?_  I had to get to her before someone else did.

I parked in a "no parking" zone right next to the entrance to the subway. Go ahead, give me a ticket, I'll pay it off in a second. I ran down the steps and to Skye, who was leaning against the wall, fiddling with her phone.

"Patrick? What's wrong?" She asked. I grabbed her arm with one hand and her duffle bag with the other.

"No time to explain. C'mon." She slung her guitar over her shoulder and grabbed her brother's arm, as he held on to his sister.

Before long we were back at my apartment. Still having not said a word to her, she begged me to explain. She looked terrified. All I wanted to do was hold her, and never let go.

Instead, I just pressed play.

**_*Skye's POV*_ **

_Where was he taking me? Why wouldn't he explain anything?_  I stumbled into his apartment. He nearly flung me inside. I begged him to let me know what was going on. I was practically shaking. I knew I shouldn't have trusted him. I shouldn't have trusted anyone. Instead of doing anything, he just glared at me, and pressed play.

It was some commercial after a news program.

"Have you seen these children?" On the screen were three faces. Me, Ryan and Rose.

 _No, no, no._ How did they know I was missing? I had only been gone for four days. I had quit all three of my jobs in preparation to leave, pretty much the only person who knew I was gone was my mother.

My mother. Maybe she finally sobered up for once and gave the police some sob story about how I was kidnapped or some shit.  _That bitch._ She only wanted me back because I was giving her food. She would steal my money for booze. She just needed someone to hit. No. I was  _not_  going back to her. I would  _not_ let her touch me, Ryan, or Rose ever again.

_"Oh, Skyeee!" I heard my mother stumble through the doorway. Shit, she was home, and I didn't make dinner yet. I sprinted down the stairs._

_"Good evening, mother. I'm just starting dinner now." I said with a smile._

_"Bull shit." She said before smacking me across the face. "Get back in the kitchen." I ran back into the kitchen and opened the fridge. It was empty. There was not a single thing in there, other than a beer. Of course. I ran to the pantry. Everything that was there was expired. I haven't gone to the store in days, I was fired from one of my jobs, and I didn't receive my paycheck this week for either of my other jobs._

_"It doesn't sound like you're cooking!" I heard a yell from the other room._

_"I'm just deciding what to make. Only the best for my mother!" I called back, trying to not make the situation worse._

_"I just want a beer!" She screeched. I grabbed the only beer in the fridge and ran it to her. She chugged it in two seconds._

_"More." She said._

_I shifted my weight, nervously. "There's no more." I gulped._

_"Let me see, you piece of shit!" She pushed me out of the way, and I almost fell to the floor. I followed her into the kitchen as she opened the fridge door._

_"There's not even a single piece of fucking food in here!" She screamed. She smashed her bottle on the door, sending glass shards everywhere. I heard crying from upstairs._ Goddamit guys, shut up, or she'll kill us all!  _She turned to face me. I could picture her like she was in one of those Saturday cartoon shows, with her nostrils flaring, veins sticking out, and smoke coming out of her ears. She brought back her bottle and slashed me across the arm._

_"How the hell were you going to feed me?" She hit me again with the bottle, this time in my nose. I stumbled backward, as my hand flew up. I pulled it back to reveal blood. Not just from my nose, but my arm was bleeding non-stop. I heard her open the pantry._

_"Everything in here is expired! What are you trying to do, kill me?" She laughed. "You can't just get rid of me yet, poor Skye darling." She punched me in the gut as I doubled over. She kicked me repeatedly in the shins until I fell to the ground, where she kicked me several times in the ribs. And just for good measure, she dropped her beer bottle on my head, and I finally passed out._

"Skye! Skye! SKYE!" I was laying on the ground. Patrick was leaning over me, shaking my shoulders, screaming my name. He looked terrified. The sounds of his screams pierced my ears, and all I could think of were the times where my brother and sister would scream my name as my mother beat them senseless.

"Stop! Stop screaming!" My voice cracked. I threw my hands over my ears, and rolled to the side as I brought my knees to my chest. I stayed in this position, slowly rocking back and forth, until he finally stopped calling my name. I slowly uncurled my body and moved my hands from my ears to my face, where they wiped away the tears that had fallen. I rolled over before sitting up. Patrick grabbed me and held me as tight as he could, as I winced.

"You're okay, you're okay." He whispered, moving his hand in circles on my back. "I was so scared, Skye. You just fell to the ground, and you were crying and screaming I had no idea what was going on." He pulled away. "What happened?"

"Where's Ryan and Rose?" I asked, completely ignoring his question.

"My friends Joe and Andy took them upstairs as soon as you fell. I didn't want them to see you like this. Now please explain. Please Skye, I just want to help you." He begged.

I sighed and got up off of the floor, and sat on the couch. "I just had a flashback right now. It was about my mother." I looked at him, he didn't respond. He gave me a look that said  _go on._

"The day after I turned seventeen, my father was diagnosed with cancer. My siblings were only one. I didn't have any friends; my father was my best friend. So I was devastated. The next day, my mother started drinking. By Thanksgiving, they found a tumor in his leg. But around Christmas, it went away. We thought it was over. But then the day after my eighteenth birthday, they found more. They got rid of those, but they kept coming back. Meanwhile, my mother officially had a drinking problem. I graduated high school, but I didn't go to college, we didn't have the money and I was the one looking over everyone. I ended up working three jobs."

"My father passed away on Christmas Eve. I think I cried for about a week straight. Then, about a month after he died, my mother became abusive. The first time, she just hit my siblings and they fell, and then she hit me on the head with her beer bottle. That's why I have this scar on my forehead. The beating just kept getting worse and worse. She would hit me every day, and I tried to protect my siblings as often as possible. Normally, I was able to hide them in a closet, but when she found them, she would just start hitting them. She would normally hit me, but she would always be sure to hit me at least once with her beer bottle. I would normally pass out because she almost always hit me on the head. Then, on the day after my nineteenth birthday, which was four days ago, I ran away. And now I'm here."

I felt a drop of water fall down my face. I was crying again. I looked over at Patrick. He didn't say anything, he was just shocked. All he did was pull me into another hug.

And I never wanted to let go.


	6. Chapter Five

_“What a shame we all became, such fragile broken things.”_

Oh, what a shame indeed.

What a shame that after promising myself to never tell anyone about what happened to me over the past two years, I was now pouring out my heart, while crying into a stranger’s shoulder.

What a shame that I was so scared of anything and everything. I feared that I wouldn’t be able to take care of my siblings. They were already living on the streets, but I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone hurting them, as they had already been hurt enough, at such a young age. I feared that someone would find me, and take me back to my mother. Oh, how she would kill me. Not figuratively, but she might literally kill me. I feared that this Patrick guy was going to hurt me.

I instantly pulled away from the hug I so desperately wanted just a few seconds ago.

He sighed and looked up at me. “Skye, we need to go.”

“No,” I replied instantly.

“Please Skye.” He pleaded. “We need to take you to the police station. I don’t want-“

“You don’t want me staying here. You want me to go back to my mother. You don’t want to be seen with me. That’s okay; I wouldn’t want to be seen with me, either.” I cut him off.

“What would give you that idea?” He looked hurt. “Skye, please we need to-“

“Patrick-“

“No, Skye.” He raised his voice, making me instinctively take a step back. He realized how I reacted, and softened his voice. “Skye, I would never let anyone hurt you, and I would never send you back to your mother. We have to go to the police. Someone as awful as her should get what she deserves. If she’s behind bars, there won’t be a single chance that she can get to you. Please, I don’t want you hurt, or scared.”

I sighed. “Patrick, I can’t.”

“Why?” His eyes looked sad, like he actually meant what he said before.

“I-I-“ I stuttered, trying to think of the words to say. I buried my face in my hands before quickly looking up. “What would happen to my brother and sister?” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

“Well, wouldn’t they stay with you? You aren’t a minor are you?” He asked.

“I’m only nineteen; I have no idea if I’m old enough to be their legal guardian. And if I was, I’m not exactly in the best financial state. Heck, I’m living off the goddamn streets of Chicago! Either way, there’s no doubt that they’d be sent to a foster home. I know there are nice ones out there, but I’ve heard stories about the others! Patrick, I can’t send them there, after all that they’ve been through, hey don’t need any more shit in their lives! And they’re the only thing that’s keeping me from just ending it all!” By the end of my mini rant, I was almost full-out screaming. There were tears streaming down my face. After two years of doing nothing but pathetically crying, I didn’t know that I still had any more tears left in me. I collapsed back onto the couch, pulling my knees into my chest, and burying my face.

Patrick was at a loss for words at my outburst. I heard a door open and close, followed by a pair of footsteps.

“Patrick! I’m home- Woah, what happened?” I looked up. Patrick had taken a seat next to me on the couch, his hand on my shoulder. I hadn’t even noticed he was there. I flinched away from his touch.

“Who’s this?” I heard the voice again. I turned my head to see a guy with black hair, around Patrick’s age, standing in the doorframe, holding a couple of grocery bags.

Patrick cleared his throat. “Pete, this is Skye. Skye, this is my roommate and bandmate, Pete.” He said, gesturing between the two of us.

Pete dropped his bags and walked over to the couch, sitting on the other side of me. He reached out to put his hand on my shoulder, and I tensed up and slightly leaned away.

“Sorry, bad habit,” I muttered as I relaxed my shoulders.

Patrick spoke again. “Hey Pete, uh, do you think you could go to the other room for a sec?” He said. Pete nodded and left, and Patrick turned to me again. “Look, I won’t force you to go to the police...” I let out a breath of relief. “...yet. Eventually, you’ll have to tell someone. It might just get worse.” I nodded and fiddled with my thumbs.

“But for now, we can’t have you going out like that, people might recognize you.” He said, and I gave him a confused look. “From the news or whatever. You have to change your appearance.-“

“Can I dye my hair?” I cut in. I’ve always wanted to dye my hair since I was about ten years old. My father would never let me. “I’ve always wanted to dye my hair black.”

“We could dye your hair, and we’d have to cut it a bit, too. But not black, your hair is brown, it’s too close to your natural color.” He tried to explain.

“But dying my hair an unnatural color will just attract more attention, don’t you think?” I countered. He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. “And no, I refuse to dye my hair blonde.”

He thought for a minute before speaking again. “Fine, we can dye your hair black, but we have to cut it short, at least shoulder length. If you want anything fancy, Pete will cut your hair, he’s good at that stuff. And for Alex and Alexa-“

“They’re not dying their hair,” I said sternly. I gave him a look that must’ve let him know that I was not taking no for an answer. He put his hands up in defeat.

“Fine. I’ll go buy the hair dye, you can go get your brother and sister, they’re upstairs, first door on your left.” He stood up before grabbing his keys and leaving.

All I wanted to do at the moment was to go back to the subway station. Over the short three, almost four days I had spent in Chicago, it had become my home. I know it’s not exactly the best of all places to call one’s home, but it was where I could just sit and play my heart out. But if I went back at this moment, people may recognize me. Most people don’t pay attention in the first place, but just in case they did, It would be a good idea to pick a different station.

“Skye!” Ryan came running down the stairs and leaped into my lap, burying his head in my shoulder. I hugged him as he hiccupped. I pulled away and his face came back soaked with tears.

“What’s wrong little man?” I whispered in his ear.

“He-he-h” He stuttered and pointed over my shoulder. I turned around to see a man with almost every square inch of skin covered in tattoos come down the stairs.

“What did you do?” I almost screamed as I stood up, setting Ryan down on the couch.

“Look, I’m sorry, it was Pete. He just went to tickle him and once he did, he just completely flipped out.” Just on cue, Pete came down the stairs and started apologizing.

I sighed. “It’s okay, you didn’t know. He’s just absolutely terrified of being tickled, It’s just something my mother used to do, before she, uh,” I looked down at the floor, trying to decide how to explain. “It just brings back old memories.” I turned around and picked Ryan up. He wrapped his hands around the back of my neck and his legs around my waist. I held him and ran my fingers through his hair, something that always calmed him down.

I soon put him down and said, “Why don’t you go get Rose?” He nodded and ran up the flight of stairs.

“He’s cute. Is he yours?” Pete asked.

“What?” I said, not expecting him to say that. “Oh, no no no. Ryan and Rose are my siblings. We’re just 16 years apart.”

“Oh, sorry, I just thought that maybe…” He trailed off.

“No, no, it’s fine. You didn’t know.” He didn’t reply, so there was an awkward silence between the three of us. I looked down at my feet and shoved my hands in my pockets, waiting for someone to say something.

“So…” The tattoo man, whose name I still don’t know, tried to cut the silence.

“You know, saying ‘so’ just creates more awkward tension.” He raised his eyebrows. “When there’s awkward silence, people just don’t know if they say stuff, but when you say ‘so’, people think they need to start a conversation, and, well, yea.”

Pete nodded his head. “That makes sense, I guess.” He was about to say something else, when Ryan and Rose came down stairs, holding a man’s hand.

“Look! I made a friend! He has fluffy hair!” Rose squealed, jumping up and down, attempting to pat the man’s head.

“Really?” I said, squatting down. “What’s your friend’s name?” I asked her.

“His name is fluffy! Because his hair is fluffy!”  She attempted to touch his hair once again. I chuckled as I stood up. “I apologize, she’s very hyper sometimes.” I directed my attention to ‘Fluffy’.

He smiled. “It’s fine. I’m Joe by the way, and this is Pete and Andy.” He gestured to them. Pete was about to talk, but was cut off once again as we heard the front door open and close.

“Honey, I’m home!” I heard Patrick call from the doorway by the kitchen.

“Oh dear, how I’ve missed you so!” Pete yells as he runs to the kitchen, and I laugh. Through the hallway, I could see him jump on Patrick and plant fake kisses all over his face. I couldn’t help myself as I crack up.

“The fans ship them as Peterick,” Joe explained. “Even though Pete has a son and ex-wife, and now his girlfriend is pregnant. And Patrick, well, he just went through a rough break up.” I just simply nodded, as Patrick came into the room, holding up two boxes of hair dye.

“Are you ready?”


	7. Chapter Six

_“Stop there, and let me correct it. I wanna live a life from a new perspective.”_

They say that we can’t write the next chapter of our lives if we keep re-reading the last one.

But here’s the thing; we have to learn from our mistakes. We have to go back over our chapters and fix the little typos and mistakes we’ve made. If we don’t re-read those chapters, how will we know where we’ve gone wrong? I mean sure, you can get feedback. But things that are important to you may not be important to others. They don’t control your life, you do. They’re not the author, you are.

But not every story is a happy one. Your characters are flawed; they have to face problems no person would ever want to go through.

But every now and then, they let down their guard.

“Patrick!” I whined. “Can I please see my hair yet?” I was sitting on top of the island counter in the kitchen, as he was blow drying my hair. Pete had cut it into layers that fall just below my shoulders, and Patrick had just dyed it black.

“No, not until it’s done!” He said as he yanked a round brush through my hair.

“Geez, could you brush my hair any rougher?” I said, just a hint of sarcasm in my voice. He responded by yanking the brush through my hair again. I put my hand on the back of my head and turned around to give him a glare. “My hair is dry, can I see it now?” I asked.

“Nope.” He said. “You’re going to be the last one to see it.”

“Why?” I whined again.

“Because when I was dying your hair, you kept going on about Peterick!” Now he was the one whining.

“Well, in my defense, you guys were very, uh, affectionate, to each other earlier.” He rolled his eyes.

“GUYS!” He called. “Look at her hair!” On cue, Joe and Andy came into the room.

 “Awesome, they’ve seen my hair now. Can I  _please_ see it now?” I begged.

“Nope.” He said with a smile. “Pete, your brother and sister haven’t seen it yet, he’s still cutting their hair.”

“Skye!” Ryan and Rose came running in and immediately started touching my hair.

“Awesome. I’m going to go see how my own hair looks now.” I stood up and ran to the bathroom before he could object again. I stood in front of the mirror and stood in awe. My hair looked like it belonged to a celebrity on the cover of a magazine. It fell perfectly in layered waves just below my shoulder. You wouldn’t think that I would look like a completely different person, but I did.

Patrick put his hands on my shoulders. “I did a pretty damn good job, don’t you think?” As he did so, my breathing hitched. “Oh, I’m sorry, I-“ I pulled his hands off of my shoulders.

“No no, it’s okay, you just startled me.” I lied. He didn’t actually startle me, why was I acting like this? Maybe I’m just paranoid because of how my mother treated me. Yea, let’s go with that.

“Well, I think the cut is better than the dye. I’ll have to thank Pete.” I smirked at him through the mirror.

He rolled his eyes and then stared at mine back. “Damn, you are one sassy child,” I responded by flipping my hair and over dramatically walking out, as I heard him laugh behind me.

Ryan and Rose immediately started playing with my hair again. “It matches our name!” Ryan said. “Can I make my hair like yours?”

I Laughed. “No, you’re too young. Maybe when you’re older. And you have beautiful blonde hair, why would you want to change that?” I tried to ruffle his hair, but Pete had styled it in a buzz cut. Rose had hers cut into a bob. “Remember to thank Pete for doing your hair!” I said as they ran over to him.

“Thank you, Petey!” The jumped on his legs as he stumbled back a bit. I laughed as I pulled them off of him.

“C’mon, we have to go now. Say goodbye!” Just then, Patrick walked in.

“Whoa, where are you going?” He raised his eyebrows. Joe, Andy, and Pete took that as their cue to leave, and they took Ryan and Rose into another room.

“Uh- the subway?” I mimicked his facial expression.

He sighed. “Skye, I get you want to go back, but people may recognize your face, it’s fresh in their minds. Just please wait until tomorrow.”

“Well, not everyone watches the news, Patrick!” I raised my voice. “Besides, I’d go to a different subway anyway-“

“Skye.” He cut me off. “Please stay.”

I ran my hands through my hair and groaned in frustration. “Why do you even care?” I yelled. “You’re just some fucking stranger I met the other day! What would a famous rock star want to do with a fuck up like me?”

**_*Patrick’s POV*_ **

“Why do you even care?” I yelled. “You’re just some fucking stranger I met the other day! What would a famous rock star want to do with a fuck up like me?”

She’s right, why do I care? I met her a few days ago, why did I have to talk to her? Couldn’t I have just given her a dollar and moved on, like everyone else? No, I couldn’t have. She’s just… different. There’s something about her that makes her special.

I realized I was just looking at the ground. I looked back up to see her with tears beginning to form in her eyes. “See, you don’t care. Just like everyone else. That’s exactly what I thought, now if you excuse me, I’ll be leaving now.” She went to turn around, but I grabbed her arm.

“No.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Please stay.”

She tugged her arm away from me. “Why? You don’t care about me.”

“Because…” I started, trying to figure out what to stay. “Because we’re friends.” The way I said  _friends_  made me wince, and it did to her, too.

She remained silent.

“Look,” I started, “I know I’m just some random guy you just met. But I care about you Skye, and not just for your, but your brother and sister as well. I don’t want you to get hurt, I just want you to be safe.” She looked at me as if she didn’t believe me.

“Skye, do you want to move in with me?”

**_*Skye’s POV*_ **

“Skye, do you want to move in with me?”

_No._  Was my immediate thought.  _You just want to get close to me, and then leave me. You don’t care, you say you don’t want me to get hurt, but in reality, that’s all you want._

Whoa, when did I get so paranoid? Patrick is the closest thing I’ve ever had to a friend, even though I’ve known him for a few days. I mean, I can always move in for a while. Until I get a job, can get back on my feet, and afford my own place.

“Fine,” I say, and his face lights up as if he expected me to say no. I bet he was planning an argument to get me to stay, as I’m just plain stubborn.

He wrapped his arms around me in a hug. He pulled away and was still smiling. “Great! I’ll show you around, as only Pete and I live here, there are two guest rooms. Well, they belong to Joe and Andy, but I can tell them to just sleep on the couch when they come to visit. Here, I’ll show you around.”

 Just after he finished showing me around, Rose came up to me.

“Skye, I didn’t eaten in like, forever! I’m hungry!” She said.

“First, you  _haven’t_  eaten in forever.” I corrected her grammar. “And-“

“There’s food in the kitchen if you want it. There’s plenty of it. When there are four guys living here, well only two, but Joe and Andy are always here, you need a lot of food.” Patrick smiled as he cut me off.

“Holy crap, it’s almost 10. After you eat, you have to go to sleep, okay?” I didn’t realize how late it was.

“But I’m not tired!” She yawned. I laughed as I picked her up and carried her to the kitchen, where Ryan was waiting.

“I’m hungry!” He screamed.

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re gonna get some food now,” Patrick said as he walked to the fridge. “What do you want to eat?”

They shrugged.

“How about pasta?” He said. Their faces lit up and they nodded. “Do you want some too?” He turned to face me.

“Yes please.” I smiled, as he did back.

“Oh, by the way!” He called so the people in the other room could hear him. “Joe and Andy, move your stuff out of the guest bedrooms, please!”

After making our dinner, Ryan and Rose ate it as fast as they could.

“Woah, you guys are eating like you haven’t in days.” He said. Meanwhile, I was trying to savor mine. It had been a while since I had an actual meal.

“We haven’t” Rose said. “We have no more food.”

Patrick’s eyes widened. “Wha- when was the last time you ate?” They shrugged.

“They ate almost all of our food the first day, even though I told them not to. We haven’t eaten in two days, and we just ran out of water this morning.” I pushed my food around my plate, feeling guilty. I was practically starving my brother and sister. “Well, they haven’t eaten in two days, I haven’t eaten in three. I was planning to buy food today.”

He actually looked genuinely concerned. I pushed some more food around on my plate.

“I normally would only have enough food for my mom, if I didn’t make her food, the beatings would be worse. I usually was able to get some scraps for my brother and sister, but sometimes I would go days without eating. I’m used to it though-“

“That won’t be a problem anymore.” He gave me a soft smile.

“Oh, no, I don’t want to be a burden. I have some more money now, I can feed myself-“

“Please, it’s my pleasure.” He gave me a soft smile as I yawned. “C’mon, let’s get you guys to bed. You need a rest.” He took my hand and led me down the hall, Ryan and Rose following. As Patrick went to go get sheets for my room, I tucked them in.

“I like Patrick. Can we keep him?” Rose asked and I cracked up. It was the first time in a long time that I had actually laughed. Sure, I gave a small laugh every now and then, but this was the first time where I actually did. Even when I only laughed a bit, or even smiled, it was around Patrick.

“I sure hope so, Rose.” 


	8. Chapter Seven

_“Honey if you stay,_ _you’ll_ _be forgiven, nothing you can stay can stop me going home.”_

I sighed as I completed my final song for the day. For the past week, I had been doing the same thing, waking up, thanking Patrick more times than I can count for food and a place to live, and then going to the subway station. Much to Patrick’s consent, I did choose a new station, one that was only a two minute walk from his apartment. I checked my case, after five hours of playing, I only had three dollars. I couldn’t do this for much longer, I needed an actual job.

\----------------------

“I need a job,” I called into the apartment the second I got home. Patrick was on the couch, attempting to entertain my brother and sister. But Ryan was asleep on the couch, and Rose kept playing with her hair.

“What?” He said. He stood and turned around to face me. “Why?”

“Patrick, as much as I love what you’ve been doing for us for the past week, we can’t stay here forever. You’ve been feeding us, giving us a place to live, and supporting us. But I need to get back on my feet, and I wouldn’t want to be a burden and live here forever.” I explained.

He sighed. “Skye, you know that you’re always welcome here, you’ll never be a-“

“Patrick, it’s just a job. It’s not like I’ll be immediately moving out.”  _Why does he even care?_

“You know that I’ll always care about you.” I felt my face get red.

“Did I say that out loud?” He gave a nod. “Oops.”

He let out a small chuckle. “Hey, do you remember the music store where I ran into you last week? I think they’re hiring. You would like that place, Pete used to work there when Fall Out Boy was just starting out.”

“Oh my God, that’s perfect, thank you Patrick!” I gave him a hug. Normally, I wasn’t one for hugs. I was always the introvert, I never fully trusted anyone other than my father. But Patrick was an exception. I hadn’t opened up to Pete, or Joe, or Andy. Just Patrick. He was…. special.

“Do you mid watching over them for a bit more?” I pulled away and pointed to my siblings. “I’m gonna go there now, and see if there’s still an opening, and if they have applications or whatever.” I turned around but immediately froze.

“Skye, what’s wrong?” He turned me back around so I could face him.

“It’s just…” I shook off the thought. I was just being paranoid. “Nevermind, it’s stupid.”

“Please tell me. If it was stupid, you wouldn’t have frozen up like that.” His face was full of concern.

“It’s, they’re only a music store, right? They won’t run a background check or anything, they won’t find out I’m missing right?” He was silent. “Shit, Patrick, I can’t go back to her!”

He instantly pulled me into a hug, and started whispering in my ear. He knew that if he didn’t, then I would have a flashback. He was right, I had been getting them almost every time I thought of her, and that if he didn’t act quickly, I would end up curled up into a ball on the floor, kicking and screaming until something brought me back.

I would get them in the form of nightmares, too. Almost every night, I would wake up screaming at three in the morning. I would be caught in a cold sweat, hyperventilating, shooting up out of my bed. Patrick would hear, and coming running down the hall. I once went a single night without a nightmare, and he was still worried. When I woke up on my own that morning, he asked if everything was okay. He woke up right around the time when I would wake from my nightmares, and he checked on me, but I was sleeping peacefully.

Patrick was the greatest friend I could ever wish for. I buried my face in his shoulder, not wanting to leave. His hugs were the best ones I’ve ever had.

“I should really get going now.” I mumbled into his body. He pulled away and gave a nod.

“It’s a twenty minute walk from here, but just a two minute drive. Do you want a ride?” He offered.

“No, I’m fine, I have my phone, give me a call if you need anything.” He nodded again as I walked out the door. I made sure to grab my iPod and earbuds, before plugging them in and starting the walk there.

_I walk a lonely road, the only one that I have ever known_

A couple of weeks ago, this would have been true. Once my father died, I was left completely alone. I would lock myself in my room, and shut out the rest of the world, trapping myself in my own darkness. I would completely ignore my brother and sister, only coming out of my room when I had to feed the family. I would mope around, only leaving the house to get food and at work. I absolutely despised work. I worked three lousy jobs, a cashier at McDonalds, a dishwasher at some Chinese restaurant near my house, and a barista at Starbucks. I know, those are all jobs a high school dropout would work, or someone who never went to college. Well guess what? Thanks to my mother, I never had that luxury. My three jobs barely got us by, between food, paying my mom’s taxes for her, and her blowing all of my money on beer. I had also been fired from Starbucks almost as soon as I started working there. They apparently didn’t want someone working there who could barely grab a cup because her hands were so badly bruised.

As I neared the store, I took out my earbuds and quickened my pace. Although I had only been there once, as soon as I walked in, I felt comfortable, like I had been stepping into a place that held precious childhood memories.

“Hello, welcome to Apollo’s music shop. How many I help you?” A man from behind the counter asked, as he noticed I was just standing there for a good minute.

“Uh, hello. I’m looking for a job, and my friend said you guys were hiring?” I said as more of a question than a statement.

“Well, you’re lucky you came in, today was the last day to apply. Here’s a form, just fill it out and hand it in. Tomorrow, we’ll be conducting interviews., starting at 8 in the morning, and running until noon. We need a cashier or two, as well as people who can stock some shelves. I hope you don’t find those jobs unappealing.” He handed me a clipboard.

“No, no, it’s fine. I love music, and it would be a pleasure to work here.” I said with a smile as I took the clipboard and begin to fill it out. My only experiences with working aren’t that impressive, but I guess as I’m applying for either a cashier or a shelve stocker, It will do.

\-------------------------

“Well?” Patrick came up to me as soon as I walked in the door. Damn, every single time I walk in, he’s always looking to start a conversation.

“Today was the last day to apply for a job, so I did. They’re doing interviews tomorrow, from 8-12.” I said, walking over to the kitchen.

“Alex and Alexa got hungry while you were gone, so I made dinner. They just finished eating as you walked in, they went upstairs to their room.” In the middle of the table was a bowl of spaghetti and meatballs. “I didn’t eat yet, I figured I would wait until you got home.”

“Thanks Patrick, all of this really means a lot to me.” I said, sitting down.

“It’s my pleasure.” He smiled, doing the same.

“Can I ask you a question?” I piled some spaghetti on my plate as he nodded. “Well, actually two. Why do you always make pasta?”

He sighed, out of… relief? “Never say,  _can I ask you a question_. That single phrase will give me so much anxiety. And to answer your question, I just make whatever I have, and most of the time its pasta. It’s also fairly easy to make.” He shrugged and put food on his plate. “Next question.”

“Why do you call them Alex and Alexa? I call them Ryan, and Rose, and I told you why. You’re just going to confuse me.”

“Well, I was never one for nicknames, I really don’t call people them. Part of it is because the band always calls me Pattycakes.” I burst out laughing. Thank God I wasn’t eating at that very second, I would have started choking. His faces turned bright red. “I shouldn’t have said that.” He mumbled.

I shook my head, recovering from my fit of laughing. “No, you shouldn’t have,  _Pattycakes_ ” I starting laughing hysterically all over again, as he buried his face in his hands.

“Well, you’ll have to thank Pete for giving me that nickname.” He mumbled, as Pete came down the stairs, smelling food.

“Thanks Pete!”


	9. Chapter Eight

 

Forget this whole ‘ _New Perspective’_ thing if it means waking up at seven thirty to get to an interview at eight.

I’ve never been a morning person. Well, who is? I’ve never met someone who enjoys waking up, especially when you hardly get any sleep because you wake up every few hours screaming in your sleep. I rolled over to a mop of hair in my face. I almost screamed until I realized it was just Patrick.

_The familiar feeling of having a bottle smashed over my head made me shoot up in my bed, gasping for air._

_“Again?” I heard a voice next to me. I look over and Patrick was sitting next to me, hand on my shoulder. This had become a routine now. Around three in the morning, now it was 3:04, I would wake up from a nightmare, and Patrick would calm me down until I was able to fall back asleep._

_I nodded in response and leaned into his body._

_“You know, you could always see a therapist if these continue, if you’re ready. You’ll have to go to the police first.” I shook my head, I was afraid if I spoke it would come out as a cry or a scream._

_He sighed and rubbed small circles on my back, something that he knew would calm down. It worked, and I was just about to fall asleep when he stood up to leave. As he reached the door, I called for him._

_“Patrick?” My voice cracked._

_He turned around and looked at me. “Yes?”_

_I played with my thumbs and bit my lip. “Can you stay? Just for tonight.”_

_He gave a small smile. “Always.”_

I smiled at the memory of what happened last night. Patrick was unlike anyone I’ve ever met, he was the best friend I could ever ask for. But I couldn’t just ignore the way I started to smile when I said his name, or when I would think of a memory we shared. I pushed the thought out of my head as I stood up to get dressed. I wanted to wear skinny ripped jeans and a band tee, but I figured I might as well dress nicely as I’m going for a job interview, even if it was just for a music store.

I put on a pair of black skinny jeans, and a well-fitting white shirt. I threw a black blazer on top, making me look at least somewhat professional. This was probably the nicest outfit I owned, even if it was just a t-shirt, jeans, and jacket. I was never the person to get dressed up, I liked things simple and sweet. I did have one pair of black flats, so instead of my usual beat up sneakers, I wore those.

I looked over to see Patrick roll over in his sleep, but didn’t wake up. It was only 7:41, so Ryan and Rose would be asleep, and Pete never gets out of bed until noon. I went to the kitchen and left a note

_Dear Patrick or Pete or Ryan or Rose or whoever reads this:_

_I left for the interview, wish me luck! I’m not sure what time I’ll be back, but I’ll be sure to bring back McDonald’s_

_Skye :P_

\------------------

“Hello Miss Black, you are the first interviewee. I’m James Sparkson, I’m the store manager and I’ll be interviewing you today.” The man who I met yesterday greeted me as I walked in. He must have recognized me because I was the most recent person to apply, as I’ve been told.

I shook his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr.Sparkson.”

“Please, the pleasure is mine. Now, if you follow me to my office, we’ll begin.” He said as I did so. I followed him through the employee lounge to his office. It looked how you would imagine any other office to look, white walls, a wooden desk and cushioned chairs, diplomas on the wall behind him and bookshelves lining the side walls.

“So, let’s begin. Why did you choose to work here?” He asked, pulling out a pen and a questionnaire.

“Well, I just moved to Chicago, and currently I’m staying with my friend, but I was hoping to buy my own apartment. I was here the other day, and my friend said you were hiring. I love music, and I don’t need a big office job at the moment. Just something simple.”

He moved on to ask a variety of different questions, ranging from my taste in music to my previous jobs, and even random things such as my favorite color or place to visit. Thankfully he didn’t ask about where I came from, or about my family.

After about an hour or so of questions, he said, “I’m done with questions about you now, Miss Black. Now, this is the point in the interview where you will have the chance to ask any questions you have about me, this job, or anything else you would like to know.”

I thought about this for a second. I didn’t have any questions, as this was really the only job I was looking for. But I figured I might as well take the chance to ask some, why not?

“Um, if I work here, what will my hours be like?” I asked probably the lamest question you could.

“Well, if we decide that we want you to work with us, you can decide if you want the morning shift, afternoon shift, or night shift. It’s only a part time job; you can work around 25 hours. Because it’s also part time, you’ll get paid, but won’t get benefits like health care.”

I nodded my head; at least I could choose to not wake up at seven thirty again. “What makes you think that I’m more qualified than other people applying for the job, and what skills do I need for this?” I was surprised about how professional that sounded.

“Well, you’re fairly young and seem to be in good shape to stock. You have experience working with customers, as you were a cashier and a barista. To some people those aren’t great for a resume, but these jobs actually show us that you know how to work with customers, sometimes they can be, well, stubborn. You’re not over qualified for this job, and you’re not under qualified, either. You just need basic skills for this job, ones that you already have.” I nodded my head.

“That’s really all the questions I have,” I stated. He stood up and shook my hand once again.

“Well, it was a pleasure to interview you, Miss Black. If we want to hire you, we should call you this afternoon, between four and six. We will also ask you what shift you would like to begin with. We can always change it later on, but we ask that you come in tomorrow an hour before your shift so we can show you exactly what you need to do, and we can work out what days you will work, too. Thank you for coming in.”

“Thank you for this opportunity. I hope to see you again,” I said, and began my walk back home.

\-----------------------------

“Did you get McDonald's?” I hardly opened the door when Patrick came running up to me.

“No, these are the severed heads of my enemies.” I sarcastically remarked, holding up the bags of food. “Yes, I went to McDonald's, I almost forgot and had to turn around and get some. And the interview went very nicely, thanks for asking.”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot.” I rolled my eyes at him. “Did you get the job?”

“I think so. They’re going to call me between four and six, and it’s noon now.” I placed the bags on the table. “Pete, Ryan, Rose! I have lunch!” I called down the hallway, as I heard two pairs of footsteps run to their doors.

“Where’s Pete?” I asked Patrick.

“He’s probably still sleeping. I only woke up ten minutes ago.” I gave him a glare. “What? We enjoy sleep.”

“So you’re saying that Ryan and Rose were up for a good few hours without anyone watching them?” I raised my eyebrows at him.

“Oh, shit, uh, they seem to be fine.” He said as they raced into the kitchen, jumping up and down. “See, they’re-“

“Patrick!” He seemed confused. “They’re on a sugar high, you must have left candy somewhere and they found it!”

“Sorry?” He was scared, like I was going to start screaming. I let out a breath that I didn’t realize I was holding. I didn’t want anyone to be scared of me, and I hated to be angry at Patrick.

“It’s fine, just try not to do it again. It’s my fault for not waking you up and telling you that you had to look after them, sorry.” I handed everyone their food as we sat down.

“I’m going to go get Pete.” Patrick walked down the hallway with Pete’s food in his hand. I smiled at the thought of Patrick bribing Pete to get up with food.

“Skye?” Rose asked. I looked at her. “I’m scared of Patrick and Pete.” She whispered. I picked her up and put her in my lap.

“Why? What’s wrong baby girl?” I whispered back.

“They won’t hurt us like mommy, will they? I like them, I don’t want them to be meanies.” I hugged her.

“No, they won’t hurt us. I promise.”

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise.”

\-------------------------------

“Patrick! Patrick! Patrick!” I yelled, running down the hall to Patrick’s room, where he flung the door open.

“Skye, what’s wrong?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Nothing’s wrong, I got the job!” I squealed.

He pulled me into a quick hug. “That’s great! When do you start?”

“Tomorrow. I’m working the afternoon shifts, so I’m not sure which days I’m working, but I’ll figure that out tomorrow.” I jumped up and down. “I have a real job!”

_“Stop there, and let me correct it. I wanna live a life from a new perspective.”_


	10. Chapter Nine

_“Needed some time so I could find a little strength to redefine what I’ve done, what I’ve become.”_

That’s all I needed. Just some time.

Just some time for me to get back on my feet, to try and be my sibling’s mother that they only had for a year.

Just some time for me to find a little strength, and become the person that I’d always hope I would grow up to be.

“Miss Black, what a pleasure to see you!” I walked in and shook hands with Mr. Sparkson, the manager and the person who interviewed me yesterday.

“It’s a pleasure to work here.” He turned around and handed me two blue polo shirts and two pairs of khakis.

“Here is your uniform, there’s a bathroom in the lounge where you can change. You can leave the second outfit and the one you’re wearing now in your cubby in the lounge as well.” I nodded and made my way to the lounge, which was at the back of the store.

As I changed in the bathroom, I couldn’t help but stare at the cuts and bruises lining my arms. Every single one was from my mother. I tried to count, but eventually gave up, there were too many. I mentally cursed myself for not bringing a long sleeve shirt to wear underneath my shirt. I was afraid Mr. Sparkson would see the bruises and not want me working there, as it might be painful to stock shelves, or customers would be appalled at the sight of them. I sighed and decided to just wear the short sleeves for just one day. I mean, none of the cuts were open, and the bruises had begun to fade. You really couldn’t see too many of them if you didn’t look for them.

After I set my belongings in my cubby (I felt kind of special. Like a certain space of the store was reserved for  _me,_  like  _I_  was a part of it. Even if it was just a square foot of space.), I made my way to the register, where Mr. Sparkson was waiting with another employee, who I assumed was new, like me.

 “Alright, so Miss Black, this is Aaron Markson. He will be working with you.” I shook Aaron’s hand. He was tall, like,  _really_  tall, at least over six feet. If you gave him a bit of facial hair and tattoos, he looked like a giant Pete.

“You two can just call me Skye.” I smiled.

Mr. Sparkson- by this point I was just groaning at his name. Seriously,  _Sparkson?_  What kind of name was that? It made me want to puke- spent a good hour saying things he could have done in just five minutes. Basically, we had to work the cash register. If a new shipment came in, one of us would unload it and stock shelves. It didn’t seem hard, seeing as they mostly just sold CD’s and records. If instruments came in, we would both have to unload them and put them in the storage room. If someone came in asking for an instrument or came in for a lesson, we were to direct them to Mr. Sparkson or their teacher. See? I just said what we had to do in five sentences, more or less.

It was a Wednesday afternoon, and after “working” for a good thirty minutes, nobody had even entered the store. By “working” I mean playing around with the cash register so I looked busy.

“Nervous?” I heard a voice beside me. I jumped, startled. “Woah, sorry didn’t mean to scare you.” It was Aaron.

“Sorry, I’m just a bit jumpy at times,” I said, shyly. I wasn’t a people person. “And no, I’m just extremely bored.”

“Do you want to help me stock shelves? There’s a box of CDs over there.” He pointed to a massive brown box next to the door.

“But that’s not a new shipment, we only unload those. And isn’t one of us supposed to always be at the cash register?” I questioned.

“Ha! I knew you zoned out during his speech.” I felt my face get hot. Well, to be honest, he just repeated himself over and over again. “I know he repeated himself a lot, but he said we can unload anything. If it’s a lot, we can both do it. Besides, they’re no customers.” I felt my face get redder as I realized I thought out loud, again.

“Uh, sure.” I nearly tripped on my feet on my way to the box. “I’m sorry, I’m extremely clumsy and shy and just completely awkward.” I felt my face get redder,  _again_. This is why I don’t go out in public.

“It’s okay, so am I. I have the worst hand eye coordination, yet I’m surprisingly good at guitar.” He said as he fumbled with opening the box as if he were trying to prove his point.

“You play?” He nodded in response. “So do I. I’m better with a bass, though. I also sing a bit.” He looked up at my face, as if he were studying it for a bit, before his eyes went open.

“Hey! You’re that girl who plays in the subway station!” I bit my lip and nodded. “Holy shit, you’re really good. Like,  _really_  good. You’ll have to teach me sometime. And if you’re better with a bass, then  _dayum gurl!_ ” He snapped his fingers and I laughed, picking up a stack of CDs.

“Yea, maybe sometime.” I went over to the rows of CDs and began putting them away when a customer walked in.

“Welcome to Apollo’s music shop, used CDs are buy one get one half off-“ I said, barely looking to see who it was when they cut me off.

“Skye, it’s me.” I turned around and Patrick walked in.

“You know, it’s not polite to cut people off.” I said with a smirk. He was about to say something else when I heard a squeal coming from Aaron. “You alright?”

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT YOU’RE PATRICK STUMP!” He yelled, making my jump, and then put my hand to my mouth to stop myself from laughing.

“The one and only.” He smiled.

“SKYE, YOU KNOW PATRICK FUCKING STUMP AND DIDN’T TELL ME?” He screamed in my face.

“Dude, calm down, Mr. Sparkson is going to hear you and fire you.” He rolled his eyes. “And yes, I’ve been living with him and Pete until I can buy an apartment of my own. By the way, has anyone ever told you that you look like a giant Pete Wentz?”

“Oh my God, he does-“ Patrick began.

“YOU’RE LIVING WITH THEM?” He screamed, making the devil himself come out of his office.

“I heard yelling, is there a problem with a customer?” If looks could kill, we’d be dead by now.

“No sir, not at all. We’re just having a friendly debate.” I smiled, wishing he would just leave. He finally did, and I let out a sigh of relief.

“You don’t like him, do you?” Aaron asked.

“Oh my God when he talks, he just repeats himself over and over, and he talks so slow I just want to stab myself. And what kind of name is  _Sparkson_? God, I want to puke whenever I hear his name.”

“You know, it’s not good to hate your boss.” Patrick interrupted.

“I don’t hate him, I just dislike him.” I said. “And no one asked you,  _Pattycakes._ ”

Aaron’s eyes went wide. “ _Pattycakes_? Isn’t that what they call you in fanfics?”

I burst out laughing. “You read fanfics?” I said between laughs. His face went red.

“No, uh, I mean, that’s just what they say on tumblr-“

“Oh save it, Markson. We know you’re a fanboy at heart. You squealed when Patrick walked in here. Now you’ve probably scared the poor child.” I hugged Patrick protectively, knocking his hat off in the process. I took this as the opportunity to mess with his hair.

“Not the hair!” He screamed.

“Okay, so you just met a huge fan of yours, who even reads fanfiction, and you hardly acknowledge him? You only care about your hair?  _Damn_  Stumpy, you are conceited!” I teased.

“Oh, shut up. If you read some of that stuff, you would be scarred for life.” He complained as he managed to escape my grasp.

“You just say that because you don’t want anyone thinking that you  _like_  it.” He looked disgusted. “I mean, seeing how Peterick is completely real-“

“PETERICK IS REAL AND YOU DIND’T TELL ME THIS EITHER?” Aaron screamed once again.

“Oh no, he’s a Peterick shipper too.” Patrick bent over to pick up his hat that I knocked on the floor.

“Just don’t drop your hat like that when Pete is around,” I said with a wink, making him glare at me. “Oh come on, you two would be cute together!”

**_*Patrick’s POV*_ **

“PETERICK IS REAL AND YOU DIND’T TELL ME THIS EITHER?” Aaron screamed, and I swear my face was as red as my cardigan right now.

“Oh no, he’s a Peterick shipper too.” I groaned as I bent over to pick up his hat that I knocked on the floor.

“Just don’t drop your hat like that when Pete is around.” Skye winked, causing me to shoot her a glare. “Oh come on, you two would be cute together!”

 _I know who I’d be cuter with_. I thought as I straightened my hat on my head.

Wait, what?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Five Becomes Four – Yellowcard


	11. Chapter Ten

"You're telling me you've  _never_  had deep dish pizza. You've been living in the Chicago suburbs your whole life and you've  _never_  had it?"

"Born and raised an hour from Chicago, yet I've never had it."

Pete and I were currently sitting in the living room, having a heated debate on which food was the best. I argued that hamburgers were the best food out there, while he argued that pizza was. This eventually led to him going on about all types of pizza, including deep dish pizza, which Chicago is famous for, and which I have never had.

"Patrick! Your girlfriend has never had deep dish pizza!" Pete yelled down the hallway, loud enough for Patrick to hear from his room.

"I'm not his girlfriend, I would never help someone cheat on their boyfriend who so happens to be their roommate!" I gradually made my voice louder, so that by the end of the sentence, Patrick could hear me. Sure enough, he came running out of his room.

"I swear to God Skye, if you don't shut up about Peterick I can guarantee that I'll never take you out for deep dish pizza." He threatened.

I put my hands up in defense. "Oh no, what a shame. It's not like I could go out and get some myself." I remarked as he rolled my eyes at me.

"I don't care, I'm taking you out for pizza. Pete, can you stay here and watch her brother and sister? And I mean watch, not just sit on the couch with your headphones on." Patrick ordered.

"But-"

"Please Pete?" I interrupted. He gave me a look that said 'fine' before Patrick grabbed my wrist and nearly dragged me out the door. As soon as we got outside, I jumped away from him.

"What was that for?" I said, referring to his previous actions.

"What?" He complained.

"Don't 'what' me! You just dragged me out of the apartment!" I said, with a little more bitterness than I should have.

"Oh, sorry." He mumbled. He reached out for my hand again but pulled away. "Uh, you can just follow me to the car."

\----------------------------------

"Hey, sorry I yelled at you before." We were sitting in the restaurant, waiting for our pizza. We hadn't spoken since we got in the car, and you could feel the tension between us. He stopped stirring his drink with his straw to look up at me.

"No, it's fine. I'm sorry I dragged you out of the apartment." He apologized.

"It's fine, you were just excited," I assured.

"Well, you've never had deep dish pizza, but you've lived near Chicago your whole life!" He laughed and I managed a smile. "Hey look, our pizza is here!" A waitress placed a large cheese pizza on our table before walking away. My eyes widened.

"Patrick! This thing is huge, we won't be able to finish it!" I laughed when he didn't respond, but just shoved a piece of pizza in his mouth. I bit my lip, waiting for it to burn his mouth. His face went red and he spat it out.

"Holy shit, that's hot." He said.

"Why thank you." I sarcastically said, as his face went even redder.

"I-I- I was talking ab-bout the p-pizza." He stuttered, which made me laugh even more.

"Oh c'mon Stumpy, you know I'm just kidding." His face was as red as the sauce on the pizza, at this point. "You know, you blush  _very_ easily." I pointed out.

"Just shut up and eat your pizza." He mumbled. He seemed upset, so I didn't push it. There was yet another awkward silence between us. What happened to us?

"Sorry. I should've stopped." I muttered back, before taking a bite of the pizza. "Oh my God, that's amazing."

"Why thank you." He said, a smirk plastered on his face. He even gave a wink, for extra effect. "You know, you blush very easily, too."

I bit my lip, trying to hold in my laughter, but failed. "Thank you."

"No problem, the pizza's on me." He smiled. I tried to talk, but he cut me off. "Please don't start fighting over who pays. I'm paying, final answer."

"No, not about the pizza," I said. "As I was saying before, thank you. Not just for the pizza, not just for giving me a place to live and food on my plate, but for everything else. For being a friend. I never had a single friend, throughout all of school. My father was my only friend. Once he passed, well, I just stopped talking completely, for about a month. After that, I only talked to not make a situation worse with my mother, or when my brother and sister would get scared and I had to comfort them, or when I had to tell them to hide from my mother. I don't think I have smiled in a long time before I met you. I don't think I've laughed in two years before I met you. But now, this is probably the happiest I've been in my entire life. And I've known you for what, a week and a half? Almost two weeks? You're an amazing person, Patrick. Thank you."

He was taken aback by my speech. He smiled and managed to say just one word.

" _Always."_

\----------------------------------

" _I choose defeat, I walk away, and leave this place the same today. Some like to sleep, we like to play. Just look at all that pain."_

"Werk it, gurl." Aaron completely ruined the mood of the depressing song we were just playing. We were currently at his apartment, in his room, just playing guitar and singing.

I Laughed. "I swear, Aaron. You are the closest person to a white girl that I know."

"What makes you say that?" He said, sipping his Starbucks. I eyed his cup. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh." I nudged his shoulder. "I'll make sure to get you a pair of Uggs for your birthday or Christmas or whatever."

"Ew, no!" He gasped. "Those things are  _Uggly_ , pun intended. I'll stick with my converse, thank you very much."

"I guess that's a no for the yoga pants and the North Face jacket, too?" I questioned.

"If you're going to buy me a North Face jacket, be my guest. Those things are hella expensive." He said, and I nodded my head in agreement. "So, when are you going to play me the bass?"

"Uh, I actually don't have one. I've never had any spare money, so unless you have one, you're going to have to wait until I have enough money to buy one."

"Well, unfortunately, I don't have one. But I can help you save up-"

"No, no, it's fine. But once I do get one, we should so start a band." I suggested.

"Totally. It should be called 'Aaron and the Losers.'" He said, excitedly.

I laughed. "Wow, that's really creative Aaron. That name would totally sell a  _lot_  of records." He didn't reply. "Earth to Aaron? You there?" I waved my hand in front of his face. He was staring blankly at his phone.

"How come you never tell me anything?" He whined.

"What are you talking about?" He didn't respond, instead, he just showed me his phone. He was reading some gossip magazine article. My heart stopped when I saw a picture of Patrick and I, along with the headline;

"Patrick Stump and Mystery Girlfriend?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Fake Your Death - My Chemical Romance


	12. Chapter Eleven

**_Patrick's POV*_ **

"Patrick! What the fuck!" I hear Pete scream from his room as he flings the door open. I was watching Alex and Alexa- personally, I like that better than 'Ryan and Rose'- after I had dropped Skye off at her friend Aaron's house.

"Pete! Language!" I yelled back as he stormed into the room, phone in his hand. "And I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Oh, don't play innocent with me." He said sternly. I walked up to him and talked lower so Alex and Alexa couldn't hear.

"What the hell are you talking about?" In response, he handed me his phone. Why was he reading a celebrity gossip site? My questions were answered when I saw a picture of Skye and I, eating pizza, laughing. Above the photo was the title;

"Patrick Stump and Mystery Girlfriend?"

" _Shit!"_  I cursed as I shoved his phone back in his hand. I picked up my hat momentarily and ran a hand through my hair, something I did when I was upset or angry, or in this case, both.

If the press knew about her, and the public knew she was missing, someone would put two and two together and figure out who she was, even if she changed her appearance. The police would find her and take her back to her mother's house. Or, even worse.

_Her mother saw the article and now knows where to find her._

_"Shit!"_ I repeated as I grabbed my phone and dialed Skye's number, running to the door. "Pete, watch them!" I called behind me. She picked up on the first ring.

"Skye, I need you to stay where you are. The press-"

"Patrick, I saw the article. Aaron's driving me over to your apartment now. I'll be there in five minutes, okay?" She cut me off, and seemed surprisingly calm, despite what was a stake here.

"You do know what this means, right?" I received no answer, as she hung up. But I knew that she knew what it meant. It meant that she would have to go to the police, and tell them what happened. If they didn't allow her to take custody of her siblings and they had to go to a foster home, I wouldn't let that happen. I would adopt them. Or, better yet, I'd have Pete so it. Because then her siblings would be my kids, and it would be like she was my daughter, which would be  _extremely_ weird if we were together-

 _Whoa, slow down there Patrick._ But I couldn't help ignore the fact that I had slight feelings for her, even though I knew her for only two weeks. Even though they were slight, they would eventually grow, and-

"Hey, 'Trick, you alright?" Pete was bent over me. I hadn't realized that I was now sitting next to the door, curled up in a ball. I stood up and stepped away from the door.

"Yeah, I'm fine." My voice was hardly a whisper. "She's already on her way, she said she'd be here in five minutes."

Pete smiled. "You like her, don't you?"

I scratched the back of my neck. "Yea, a bit." I admitted. "But I swear to God, she ships Peterick so hard. And after she got back from her first day at work, all she ever talked about was Aaron. Aaron this, Aaron that. If she likes anyone, it's him. I mean, why would she ever like me? I'm-"

Pete pulled me into a hug. "Patrick, I don't see why anyone would  _not_  want to date you. Heck, Even I would date you-"

"PETERICK!" We heard a squeal from beside us. Skye must've just walked in, as I didn't see her.

"H-how much did you hear?" I stuttered, and I felt my face get red. I cursed myself for blushing so easily, as Skye noticed.

"I walked in I saw Pete hug you, and then start talking about how he didn't know why anyone would not want to date you, and about how he would date you. Man, I wish I recorded it for Aaron. He would've gotten a kick out of that one."

_And there she goes about Aaron again._

"What, do you have a problem with him?" Skye folded her arms across her chest and sent me a glare, and I realized that I had said that out loud.

"No-I-uh- C'mon, we have more important stuff to discuss." I quickly changed the topic and walked to the kitchen, as she followed.

"Look, I know I have to go to the police. Just not today, not right now. I promise that I'll go tomorrow-"

I cut her off with a hug, and she almost instantaneously melted into my body. As cliché as it sounds, it's like we were for each other, like we were made to fit together like puzzle pieces. "That's great, I'm really proud of you." I whispered.

"As long as you come with me."

I pulled away from the hug and gave her a genuine smile. "Always."

\--------------------------------------

**_*Skye's POV*_ **

I woke to the sound of screaming.

I was used to this, as the screams often belonged to myself. I would wake up in a panic, bolting out of bed. I would look over to find Patrick, comforting me as I fell back asleep. Ever since that one night about a week ago when I asked him to stay with me, he has stayed with me every time I had a nightmare.

But I woke to an empty bed, and the screams were not my own.

I immediately bolted out of bed and flung the door open. The screams soon turned in to sobs, with the occasional yelling. Rose. I sprinted down the short length of the hallway and into her room. She was sitting up in her bed, crying into her hands. I nearly dove onto the bed and held her, stroking her short blonde bob that I still hadn't grown used to.

"Shh, it's okay baby, it was just a dream." I whispered as her cries began to die down.

"I-I, I know, S-skye." She managed to say in between gasps of air.

I pulled away from her, my hands still on her shoulders. "Do you want to tell me what it was about?" Her eyes began to fill up with tears, and we repeated the entire process over again. Eventually, she finally stopped crying and told me what happened.

"I h-h-had a dr-dream." She began, as she struggled for air.

"Shh, calm down. Take deep breaths." I told her as I comforted her once again.

"M-mommy f-found us, and she got Ryan, and, and..." She trailed off, glancing to her left. Where Ryan should have been, was an empty bed. "She-she killed him. And I w-woke up, and h-he was gone." She burst out sobbing halfway through her last word. I scooped her up, and continued to comfort her as she cried into my t shirt. At this point, her tears had soaked my shirt so much that it was sticking to my skin. I carried her down the hall, and into Patrick's room. He was sitting up in his bed, looking around, trying to find out where the cries were coming from. His eyes locked with mine, and he immediately stood up.

"Is Ryan with you?" I whispered before he could say anything. He responded with a nod. In his bed was Ryan, sleeping peacefully, despite the level of noise that was coming from just down the hall,not even a minute ago. Rose removed her head from my shirt and looked at the bed. "See?" I whispered to her. "He's okay, you're okay. We're okay, we're safe here." She nodded as I walked over to the bed, and placed her down next to Ryan. She fell asleep almost instantly.

"They're adorable." Patrick stood beside me, smiling at my brother and sister.

"Yea, adorable." I said, looking at him. I wasn't sure if that was directed to them, or him, or both. But when Patrick woke up in the middle of the night, he was pretty damn adorable. His hair would be messed up from sleeping, his strawberry blonde hair pointing in every direction. It was weird without seeing him in his signature fedora and glasses, it was different, but a good kind of different.

"You can stay here, if you want. I'm sure all four of us can fit in one bed." He suggested as he turned to face me. I didn't respond, I just went right into his bed. I didn't realize how exhausted I was. I hadn't slept for more than two hours a day over the past week.

"You okay?" He said as he climbed into bed next to me. I shook my head.

"I'm just exhausted. I haven't slept more than two hours a night for the past week." I sighed, rubbing my face with my hands. He wrapped an arm around my waist.

"Do you want me to sing to you?" Even in the dim lighting from the street lights outside, I still noticed the way his eyebrows raised like they did every time he asked if I were okay, and how blue his eyes were.

"Sure." I croaked, surprised at how my voice failed to work.

" _So, hum hallelujah, just off the key of reason_

_I thought I loved you, but it's just how you looked in the light._

_A teenage vow in a parking lot_

_'Til tonight do us part'_

_I sing the blues and I swallow them too."_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Hum Hallelujah - Fall Out Boy


	13. Chapter Twelve

Police departments intimidated me.

Seriously, though. With a bunch of cops in uniform swarming in an enclosed space, who wouldn't feel uncomfortable? Patrick was talking with a woman at the front desk, so I was left sitting alone in the waiting room.

I wouldn't let Ryan and Rose come with us, despite how Patrick argued having them give a statement would be beneficial to the case. But if a police station made me uncomfortable, it would make them absolutely terrified. Not to mention the fact that I didn't want them to remember a single detail of any of this. Bringing them to a police station would just add to that. I didn't want them growing up thinking that the people they love will hurt them. To add to my argument, not just one of them, but both of them had nightmares last night.

The scariest part of all of this was that it was happening way too fast. Sometimes my brain didn't even register where I was when I woke up, or why a guy was sleeping in my bed. And even though it was over two years ago, I still remember the day where I was sitting in pre-calc when my non-alcoholic, non-abusive mother told me that my father had been diagnosed with cancer.

"You okay?" Patrick returned from the front desk and was now sitting in a hard plastic chair, identical to the one I was sitting in beside him. I looked down and realized I had been opening and closing my phone repeatedly, something I did when I was anxious or nervous.

"This is all just happening way too fast," I admitted. "I can still remember the days before my father's cancer and my mother's addiction like it was just last week. And I'm so used to waking up in constant fear. That's why regardless of whether I'm having a nightmare or a peaceful sleep, I always bolt upright. And I've only known you for a little over there weeks and I already- I'm just not used to opening up to people like this."

Before Patrick could respond, an officer came over to us. "Mr. Stump and Ms. Black?" He read from a clipboard as we stood up. "A private investigator will speak with you now. If you would, please follow me?"

We followed him down a short, narrow hallway into a room with a couple of couches. Thank God it didn't look like some interrogation room, I probably would haves been too scared to say anything.

"Please, have a seat." A man said. We sat down on a leather couch across from him. "I'm Mr. Simmons, and I'm a private investigator, as you may already know. I have a lot of experience and I'm sure I can help you. What would you like to report?"

Oh, where do I begin? My father's cancer, my mother's addiction and abuse, me running away and being reported missing?

"I-uh.." I looked over to Patrick, my eyes asking him for help.

"It's okay, Ms. Black. Why don't you start from the beginning of everything?" Mr. Simmons suggested. I nodded.

"Well, a little over two years ago, my father was diagnosed with cancer. For almost two years he kept getting rumors and getting rid of them and it was a really hard time for my family. My twin brother and sister were only one when he was diagnosed. Meanwhile, my mother became addicted to alcohol. I ended up working multiple jobs to support us, and I never got to go to college. My father passed about six months ago. In January, my mother became... Abusive. It started with just hitting, but it escalated to full blown attacks pretty much every day. She never attacked my siblings, just hit them, and I normally hid them from her. Then, about three or four weeks ago, she drank and fell down the stairs and passed out. I packed and hot-wired her car and escaped to Chicago with my siblings. We lived in the subway until Patrick found me and I've been living with him ever since."

"Wow, that's quite the story-"

"I'm not done." I interrupted and he raised his eyebrows. "Right before I moved in with Patrick, my siblings and I were reported missing. Most likely, my mother sobered up for a day and is now looking for us. And since Patrick is famous, the press saw us together and they're eventually going to find out that I'm missing. That's why I'm here." I paused for a second before something dawned on me. "Holy shit, she knows I'm in Chicago. "

"Hey, it's okay. We'll be looking for her now." Mr. Simmons butted in. I nodded. "Have you reported this anytime before?" I shook my head. After my long description of what had happened, I was afraid I would just completely break down if I said too much.

"Now, you said she attacked you. Could you elaborate? Also, has she ever hurt you when she was sober?" He asked.

"I rarely ever saw her sober after my father passed, so no, only when she was drunk. And she would always do everything she could to hurt me, from hitting to kicking, to grabbing me by the hair and throwing me across the room. She would even throw things, once she threw a vase and missed, but one of the shards got lodged in my stomach. Oh, and she'd always break a beer bottle and cut me with it. She would occasionally throw it, and she almost always hit me over the head with it, causing me to black out. I have bruises and scars all over my body. I probably should've gone to the hospital, but I was too scared."

During my huge speech, Patrick kept tensing up. I looked over to find his face full of worry and hurt. This is why I never got close to people, I would end up hurting them, or more likely, they would end up hurting me. How my father hurt me by leaving, and my mother by abusing me. Or like how I failed to protect my siblings, no matter how hard I tried.

And now, by allowing Patrick to help me, I was hurting him. I was putting him and Pete and even Joe and Andy and Aaron in danger because my mother knew where to find me, and who I would be with.

I didn't realize I had begun to cry until Patrick rested a hand on my shoulder, slowly moving it in circles. I released a breath I didn't realize I had been holding and looked up at the investigator. "Sorry," I muttered.

"There's nothing to apologize for." He reassured. "I will file a case for you against your mother, if you want, you can have your brother and sister make a statement as well. A witness statement can help your case. Depending on how much evidence we can get, you might not have to face her in court." I let out a sigh of relief.

"What about me being missing?" I asked.

"Don't worry, I'll get it sorted out. Under the circumstances, you should be fine living where you are now. Speaking of which, you should be able to gain custody of your siblings, as you are no longer a minor." I nodded my head, relieved that they wouldn't be placed in foster care.

"And for your mother, she could face six to ten years in prison for abuse. Because we're dealing with three children, two of which are younger, she should have a longer sentence."

"Thank you so, so much." I practically praised this man for helping me.

"Of course. If anything ever comes up in the near future, here's my contact information." He handed me a business card.

"Thank you, thank you so much," I said once again as Patrick and I left the station. We had been there longer than I thought, as it was already night. Despite it being mid-June, it was still cold at night. Patrick wrapped his arm around me when he noticed I was shivering.

"Thank you," I whispered.

He stopped to look at me. "For what?"

"Everything."


	14. Chapter Thirteen

I bolted upright out of my sleep for what seemed to be the third time tonight.

"Skye, are you sure you're okay? Ever since we reported your mother, you seem to be getting worse, instead of better. Is there something I should know about?"

I sighed, trying to rid my memory of the endless nightmares that haunted me as I slept. They were no longer just flashbacks of her abuse, but they seemed to predict the future. She knew I was in Chicago by now, there was no doubt about that. She would find me eventually, and once she did, it was likely that she would try to kill me. If not me, then Ryan or Rose.

Or anyone else that tried to get in her way.  _Patric_ k. I looked over at him and regretted it almost instantly. His face was full of worry and concern. I was hurting him by just being in his presence. I bit my lip to hold back a cry. I had to get my own apartment, I couldn't put him and Pete in any more danger than they already were. I had been staying with them for almost a month now, and it was just a matter of time before one of us got severely hurt.

"Skye-"

"Can we talk about it tomorrow morning? I'm really tired and I-l"

"No, enough of this bullshit. You're going to tell me what's wrong, and you're going to tell me right now." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I hate seeing you like this."

I played with my thumbs before answering him. "She knows I'm in Chicago," I whispered. "She has to. Even if she doesn't follow the media, I live in a small town, everybody knows everyone. Someone would have seen me, and they would have told her."

He wrapped an arm around me, sitting up. "I won't let her get to you, I promise."

I shook my head. "That's the thing, she won't let anyone get in her way. You don't deserve to get hurt, Patrick. I would never forgive myself if you did." I heard my phone buzz with a new text from my nightstand. It was probably Aaron and his obnoxious bad puns he sent me when he was bored.

Patrick reached for my phone. "Ignore it," I mumbled. "The text will still be there in the morning."

He sighed. "Goodnight, again, Skye."

\-------

**_7 unread messages from Mom_ **

My heart sank as I read those five words.

A lot of things can be said using five words.

Some of them can bring joy, such as  _*insert name here*, will you marry me?_

Some of them can bring sadness, such as  _Dad was diagnosed with cancer._

And some can be absolutely terrifying, such as those five words that flashed across my phone screen.

I ran into the living room, where Patrick and Pete were watching a baseball game, even though they weren't paying much attention, as the Cubs were loosing badly.

"I can't fucking do this anymore." My voice cracked at the end of my sentence. Patrick and Pete turned around with worried expressions. "My mom texted me seven times," I whispered. "I haven't opened them yet."

I sat down on the couch opposite them and stared at my phone awaiting a response. When I didn't get one, I went ahead and read the messages.

_How many times have I told you that you can't get rid of me, Skye darling?_

_I was better off without you, oh how could I have not thought about this earlier? It's a shame that you don't know how to keep that pretty little mouth of yours shut._

_Oh, I'll just have to kill you, and that pretty little boyfriend of yours too._

_Yes, dear, I know you're in Chicago. No need to hide from me now._

_And don't even consider the police. I have a GPS on your phone, I know exactly where you're staying._

_Maybe I won't kill you....immediately. I want to have a little fun with you._

_Wanna play a little game?_

By the time I had read the last text, my hand was shaking so hard I didn't know how I managed to do so. Patrick came over to me and read the texts for himself.

"Patrick, I've got to get rid of this phone!" I yelled once Pete read the texts too. I stood up and repeated myself. "I've got to get rid of it!"

Patrick stood up and put a hand on my shoulder. "If she has a GPS, she would have used it by now. The best thing to do is take it to the police, it could give them a lead as to where she is."

I shook my head.

"Skye, you've got to get to work. While you're gone, I'll take it to the police station."

"No." He just looked at me. "I'll do it myself after work. If she has a GPS, she'll know exactly where you are. She'll stop at nothing if it means she will find me, especially if it means hurting you. All of this is my fault, all of this drama that I've put you through. I don't want you to go through any more of it, I just want you and Pete to be safe-"

"I'll go with him." Pete interrupted. "I swear, we'll be fine." Before I could protest, Pete ripped the phone out of my hands. "Now go get ready for your job, or else you'll be late."

I nodded. "Skye-" Patrick started, as he noticed I was crying

I sat on the couch, and buried my face in my hands, letting out a sob. I was just so scared, it was just a matter of time until she found us. I had to get an apartment as soon as possible and find a new job, leaving Pete and Patrick and Joe and Andy and Aaron and everyone else who's lives I had put in danger because I wasn't careful enough.

Before long, I wasn't just crying and sobbing anymore. I was bawling, I was crying harder than I ever had since my dad passed. "I'm sorry... I'm pathetic." I managed to get out between cries. Patrick and Pete both put a hand on either of shoulders.

"No, you're not." They continued to comfort me as I began to recover from my episode. "You slept in late, you have to be at work soon. I advise you get ready now." Patrick said and I just nodded.

\--------

"Hey Skye sorry to cancel on you last minute, but you can't come over today," Aaron said as he locked up the store behind him. Since we had the last shift of the day, we had to lock up the store, and then walk home at 9 in the middle of Chicago. Fun.

"What? Why?" I turned to him. He had promised we would play again tonight.

"Well, my, uh, my friend is moving into my apartment with me, and he's still unpacking and stuff." He looked nervous, which made me suspicious.

"Whatever you say." I turned and started to walk away, and he quickened his pace to match mine.

"Do you think he could play with us, later? He's awesome at the guitar- not as good as me, of course- and he also had a bass you could use. We would be that much closer to being a band."

"You had me at bass," I said as we laughed. We reached the intersection where we went our different ways, and said our quick goodbyes as we parted.

A breeze ran through the air, causing me to shiver and zip up my hoodie. They don't call Chicago the windy city for nothing. I quickened my pace once the sun had set all the way. As much as the city is pretty at night, It just made me the slightest bit paranoid.

A pair of hands reached out from an alley and pulled me inside. I tried to let out a scream, but before I could, one of the hands flew up to my face, covering my nose and mouth, making it hard to breathe. I felt the hand around my waist loosen before moving to my head. An elbow rested on my shoulder as a cold, round object pressed to my temple. A gun.

"Try to make a run for it or call for help and I'll blow out those pretty little brains of yours." I just nodded my head furiously. My heart pounded into my throat as I was met with many series of flashbacks.

My vision started to go black at the edges from lack of oxygen. The hands let go of me, and I gasped desperately for breath, breathing in the foul stench of alcohol.

A foot rammed into my gut, sending me into the wall. I couldn't see my attacker, as it was too dark in the alley and my vision went cross-eyed every time they delivered a blow to my head. I prayed that someone would walk by and come to my rescue. But no, this was an alley on the bad side of town, any person in their right mind would avoid this alley.

The attacker kept beating me, but I didn't feel anything, even as I fell to the ground. Everything was numb, I had grown used to the pain during an attack. I wished I could feel something, anything, but that didn't come until later.

I never felt pain until the day after an attack. The soreness of my wounds would make me want to scream in agony. More often than not, they required medical attention. Wounds that wouldn't stop bleeding, possibly broken ribs and limbs, but I ignored all of them, as the emotional pain that followed was usually worse. It was unbearable when other people were involved, too. I was such a pathetic excuse for a human that I couldn't even protect the people that I loved the most when I put them in front of me.

The attacker brought me back to the cold reality by lifting me to my feet by the hood. They whispered in my ear, their warm breath reeking of whiskey. "This one's from your mother."

The last thing I remembered was the butt of the gun coming down onto my head before I blacked out.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

******_*Patrick's_ ** **_POV_ ** **_*_ **

The police station was a disaster.

As always, the Chicago traffic was horrendous, and it took forever just to get to the station. We were better off just walking or taking the bus or Subway, even if it meant potentially getting mobbed by fans.

Once we did get there, the private investigator we spoke to the other day wasn't in. Skye had his contact information, and I had no way to reach her, so we had to wait for him to get in.

After that, her phone had died. It wasn't a smartphone, so no one had a charger. We had to run around the station looking for one so we could report the incident.

When I got home, it was almost 11. Alex and Alexa came running up to me.

"Patty!" They screamed as they grabbed onto my legs, making it impossible for me to move. Pete laughed and, being the anti social-person he is, went around me and locked himself in his room.

"Hey, guys. Where's your sister?" I asked while playing with their hair.

"We don't know, she was at the store thing she's always at. We've been having a party 'cus we were lonely!" Alexa squealed.

My eyes widened. "So you guys have been home alone?" They nodded their heads. "PETE!" I screamed, a hint of panic in my voice. They must have sensed it, and they cowered away. I put my hands on their shoulders, them flinching a bit. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you. I promise." I whispered.

"What now, 'Trick?" He sighed, coming out of his room. I stepped closer to him so Alex and Alexa wouldn't overhear our conversation.

"Skye's siblings have been here alone- Skye hasn't come back from work yet and-"

"Patrick." He cut me off. "She probably went to Aaron's."

I shook my head. "She said she wasn't sure if she would or not. She said if she did she would call me to let me know she would be back later, and she didn't call."

Pete's eyes widen. "You don't think this has to do with-"

"That's exactly what I think." I cut him off before grabbing my phone off the counter behind me. "I'm going now. I'll call you is something happens. Text me if I'm not back in an hour, watch them!" I pointed at her siblings and rushed out the door.

 _Please be okay, please be okay._  I couldn't deny the fact that I had feelings for her. I liked her, a lot. If something happened to her, it would be my fault. I was the one who insisted at we turned her mother in. If she got hurt, it would be because of her mother, who would only be after  her because I forced her to turn her in.  _That was confusing, way to fuck everything up, Patrick._

Part of me wonders what would happen if I didn't take the Subway that day. Would someone take her back to her mother? Or would she tell the police herself? If she went back to her mother, she might be-

No. I refused to think of her dead. I quickened my pace to a speedwalk while I fixed my hat, and I bumped into a man in a black hoodie. "Watch where you're going, twat." He spat in my face before running away. What was his problem?

I began to enter the worse part of town, and my nerves spiked.  _Please don't be here, please don't be here._ I pleaded with my mind, although that would do no good. I was surrounded by a series of shady looking alleys, which made me feel even moew uncomfortable and out of place. I broke into a jog and was about to leave that part of town before I stopped dead in my tracks.

In the alley to my right, lay a motionless figure in the shadows, peeking out from behind a dumpster. I raced over to the spot.

 _No, no, no. This can't be happening._ My heart dropped at the sight in front of me. Skye.

"Hello, 911, what is your emergency?" The operator said as I called.

"I just found my friend unconscious and beaten in an alley, and it may be connected to her abusive mother." I practically yelled through the phone, my voice cracking at every other word.

"Sir, please calm down. We have tracked your location, emergency services are on their way."

"Thank you." I hung up and dropped to my knees next to Skye.

"Please be okay Skye,  _please."_  My eyes began to water as I stroked her hair. She had barely breathing. I checked her wrists for a pulse, there was, but her skin was pale and stone cold.

Even in the alley, beaten and bloody, I still thought she was beautiful. The way that her jet black hair stuck to her unusually pale face with dried blood and tears. I feared that I would never see those beautiful blue eyes look at me again, or that I would never be able to feel her perfectly shaped lips on mine.

And in that moment, I had realized something.

I was in love with Skye Black.

\------------

 _***** _ _**Skye's** _ __ _**POV** _ _***** _

White. Everything was white. Where was I, heaven? Had my mother finally found me and decided to show me mercy, and do me a favor by putting me out of my misery.

But no, this was not heaven, because is heaven, you do not feel pain.

My vision soon faded from white to the cold reality around me.

I. Fucking. Hate. Hospitals.

Ever since my father had passed, I had become all too familiar with them.

"Oh my God, Skye, you're awake! Are you okay? Oh my God, I, I thought- NURSE!" Patrick had just walked into the room, holding a cup of coffee, and was way too enthusiastic. When he saw that I was awake, he nearly tripped over his own feet.

"I'm okay." I groaned, sitting up. But my splitting headache said otherwise. Patrick pushed me back down.

"Woah, no, no you're not. L-lie back down. Here." He handed me his coffee cup. "I was gonna drink it, but you're, uh, you look like you could use it. It has a shit ton of cream, hospital coffee isn't the best." He chuckled, trying not to stumble over his words. I raised my eyebrow at his sudden change in behavior, but he didn't seem to notice.

I murmured a 'thanks' as I took a sip of it, as the doctor came in.

"Ah, Miss Black, I see you're awake. How are you feeling?" He asked.

I shrugged. "I've been better."

He smiled. "Well, we ran a CAT scan, and there seems to be no brain damage. As for everything else, nothing is broken, just some bruising. You should be sore for a few days though, so take it easy." I nodded my head. It wasn't anything that I wasn't used to.

"You're free to leave whenever you wish. Your friend Patrick, who has never left your side," He winked, making us blush, "has already booked a meeting with your private investigator to find out who did this."

"Thank you," I mumbled before he left. Patrick handed me a bag.

"I-I packed you some clothes. I'm sure you don't w-want to walk around in that." He pointed to my hospital gown, and I giggled.

"No, thank you very much, Patrick." I took the bag and went to get changed. I wasn't one of those girls who took an hour to get ready, I just changed and was done. I didn't care what my hair looked like, I had just gotten out of the hospital, don't expect me to look like a model. I walked out of the bathroom as I heard someone squeal.

"SKYE!" Aaron ran over to me and was about to wrap me in one of his infamous bear hugs. But after he realized my current condition, he wisely decided on a normal one. "Holy shit, Skye, I'm so sorry. If I had just let you come over, you wouldn't have gotten-"

"Dude, it's okay. It was bound to happen eventually." He pulled away and gave me an utterly confused look.  _Oh right, he doesn't know anything._  "Uh, long story. I'll tell you later. Who's this?" I motioned to the guy in the corner of the room. He had side-swept black hair, a beanie, ripped skinny jeans and a Ramones shirt.  _Damn, he's_ _kinda_ _cute. But not as cute as Patrick._

"I'm Connor, Aaron's friend." He shook my hand.

"Ah, you're the guitar player who supposedly isn't better than Aaron." I winked at Aaron, as he gave me a death look, as Connor gave Aaron a similar look.

"Uh, sure." He sighed. "Aaron had wanted to do a jam session, but I'm pretty sure your head is killing you."

"Um, yeah, but we can still hang out, I'd love to get to know you, if that's okay with Patrick." I noticed he had been silent this whole conversation.

His head perked up, he had been looking at his feet the whole time. "Uh, yea-sure, uh, go ahead. I-I don't control your life." He gave me a weak smile. As we walked out, I made sure to walk closer to him.

"Are you okay?" He nodded. "Are you sure?" He bit his lip and just nodded again.

He wasn't okay.

What was with Patrick today?


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV switches a few times in this chapter, hopefully it's not too confusing.

 

**_*Patrick’s POV*_ **

As soon as I stepped into my apartment, I let my back rest against the door as I slid to the floor. I was the only one in the apartment, as Pete had taken Skye’s siblings out to see Chicago. I pulled my knees to my chest and put my head in my hands out of frustration.  _Why?_

Why do bad things happen to good people? Why do Skye, Alex, and Alexa have to go through the pain of losing their father? Why does her mother have to be abusive? Why can’t her mother stop? Why am I in love with someone who could never love me back?

_Why was my ex in my apartment?_

I immediately stood up as I realized she was in the kitchen. “Elisa?” I called out, but it came out as more of a whimper.

“Patrick! I’ve missed you!” She exclaimed and came running out of the kitchen, a smirk on her face and her arms wide open.

I sidestepped her and her hug. “What are you doing here?” I clenched my teeth and my fists.

“Patrick, I came to apologize. What I did before, I’m-“

“Don’t.” I cut her off. “Don’t even think that you can come crawling back to me after what I’ve done.”

“It wasn’t anything that bad-“

“You cheated on me, Elisa! I thought I loved you, I gave you three chances, and you blew every single one of them. If you think that you can come crawling back to me after you cheated on me three times-“

“I did  _not_  cheat on you three times!” She defended herself.

“Oh wait, that’s right, you didn’t cheat on me with three guys. No, only just ten.” I scoffed.

“It wasn’t ten! It-“

“It was what? Fifteen? Twenty? Thirty? We were together for  _ten_  years, Elisa.  _Ten fucking years!”_ I was practically screaming by now. “I was in love with you since eighth grade! After everything that we went through, I thought I could trust you!”

“But you can” She pleaded. “You have to see it from my side, you were always on tour, I was lonely, you were never there-“

“I was always fucking there!” I had begun to curse more, something that I only did when I was really upset, pissed, or hurt. Currently, it was all three. “I was there when no one else was! And don’t bitch about me always leaving you. Whenever I was on tour, all I could think about was you! I hated being away from you! Fall Out Boy split up because of you! None of the guys really liked you, but I was fucking in love with you, Elisa.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “I really thought I could trust you.”

“Don’t you dare try to blame this on me! Fall Out Boy split up because you were being the selfish, ignorant, conceited and self-centered jerk that you always have been and always will be!” She was screaming at the top of her lungs, as was I.

“Conceited? Self-centered? Are you fucking joking right now? I hated myself, Elisa. I hated myself so much that I wanted to  _die,_ Elisa. The only reason I didn’t do it was because you helped me through it all, but you never loved me! It was all for the money!”

“Oh yes, I remember very well. How you walked around and expected other people’s pity.  _Oh, poor Patrick. He hates himself because someone on Twitter called him fat._ ”

“You fucking bitch!” I screamed. Tears were pouring out of my eyes by now. I wanted to hit her so badly right now, but I had always promised myself that I would never hit someone I cared about. Even if she was a bitch, she was someone who I loved for ten years of my life. And after what Skye has been through, I vouched to never hurt another human being, unless they were hurting me or someone I cared about.

“Oh, no one cares about you, Patrick Stump. Everyone only keeps you around because you’re easy. You’re easy to talk advantage of and walk all over. Fall Out Boy doesn’t like you, and that includes Joe and Pete and Andy and all of your fans. Why do you think Pete was the front man, and not you? It’s always the singer, but nobody can even stand to look at you. But now, there’s nothing left of you to take advantage of. You were suicidal as a teenager or some shit, right? Why not just do it now? It would do us all a huge favor.”

She continued to rant, but I soon tuned her out.  _Maybe she was right, everyone would like you better dead._ I looked back up after when she finished, and she had a smirk of triumph on her face.

“Get out.” I finally said.

She raised her eyebrows. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

 _Yea, over your big ass ego._ “Get the fuck out of my apartment!” I screamed. She gave me a kiss on the cheek before she strutted out the door.

I felt awful. Elisa is right, I’m a self-centered, conceited jackass who walked around in a pool of despair, expecting other people to give him pity to get by. Everyone would like me better dead.

I didn’t know what to do, so I did the only thing I knew to do in situations like these.

_Step one: drink_

I made my way over to the kitchen, and fumbled around in the cabinets, looking for alcohol, any type of alcohol. Andy and Joe were over recently, so we were out of beer. Pete used to have a minor addiction to alcohol, so I made sure to hide it. But now, I couldn’t remember where it was.

In the back of the last cabinet I checked, my hand came in contact with a large bottle of whiskey. Perfect. I pulled it out and didn’t bother getting a glass or sitting down, I just took off the top and drank straight from the bottle.

The feeling of the whiskey burning my throat was enough to make me want more. And more. And more. I felt the alcohol kick in with a buzz in my head. I don’t know how long I had been drinking, but soon, enough, I couldn’t walk straight and I had downed almost the whole bottle. I heard the front door open.

_Step two: make mistakes._

**_*Skye’s POV*_ **

_Hey, I’m outside Aaron’s now, with Ryan and Rose. –Pete_

“Hey, I gotta go now guys, it was nice meeting you, Connor!” I smiled and waved goodbye as I left their apartment. After checking out of the hospital, I hung out with Aaron and Connor, and we even had a small jam session. I couldn’t play for very long because my head hurt from the noise, but it was nice to finally be able to play the bass again.

“Hey!” I said as I jumped into Pete’s car. “I thought Patrick would be with you, too?”

“Nah.” He replied. “He said he needed some time alone to think about things.”

I nodded my head in reply. For the rest of the ride, we sat in a comfortable silence. I looked in the back, Ryan and Rose had fallen asleep. I smiled at them, they didn’t have anything to worry about anymore, as they were oblivious to the whole situation with our mother. Apart from the occasional nightmare or flashback, they seemed to have moved on pretty well.

When we got to the apartment, Pete carried Ryan and I carried Rose. I opened the door and immediately froze at the stench of alcohol. Pete seemed to notice and handed Ryan to me.

“Here, put them to bed, and try not to wake them up. I’ll deal with this.” He whispered and I nodded. I took them down the hall as quickly as I could without waking them up. Just as I was tucking them in, they woke up. Shit.

“I’m not tired, Skye!” Ryan practically screamed. I shushed him and attempted to tuck him in. He screamed again and kicked the covers off of him. This made Rose start to scream too.

“Shut up!” I yelled. I had little patience with them, and I needed them to just be quiet. I didn’t want them to see Patrick like this.

“It’s eight, Skye! I’m not tired!” Rose pouted.

“Well, you see, tonight you have to go to sleep now, because- “ I started, but they kept complaining.

I heard footsteps come up to the room.  _Please don’t be Patrick. Please don’t be Patrick. Please don’t be Patrick._

“Skyyeeeeeeeeee!” Patrick. Fuck. I ran to the doorway and closed it behind me. He stepped closer to me, and I pressed myself up against the door. “Skyee, baby! You’re back!”

_“Skyeee, baby you’re back!” My mother squealed from the kitchen. She had only just begun to hit me, and the beatings weren’t that bad as long as I didn’t put up a fight. Which I did._

_I turned around and made a run for it, but she grabbed me by the waist, as I started screaming and kicking._

I felt a pair of arms around my waist lifting me up, and I started kicking and crying.  _No, this can’t be happening. Not again._

“Skye, it’s me.” I opened my eyes. Patrick wasn’t there and Pete has holding me. I zoned out for a minute and I had no idea what was happening. “Here, let’s get you to your room-“

“Skyeeeeeeee!” Patrick called out again and escaped his room in which Pete had tried to keep him. I sunk back further into Pete’s embrace, and I felt his arms tighten around me.

Patrick glared at us, and I wanted to cry. I didn’t want him to be like this. I trusted him, and now he was just going to hurt me, just like everyone else did, Patrick Stump, the man I love, was going to hurt me.

Yes, I was in love with Patrick Stump.

“Patrick, p-p-please d-d-don’t.” I sobbed. Pete held me tighter, if that was even possible.

“Patrick, back away.” Pete snarled, and Patrick refused. “Patrick, what happened?”

**_*Patrick’s POV*_ **

“Patrick, back away.” Pete snarled, and I refused. After everything I went through with what’s her face, Lisa? Skye was going to leave me, for  _Pete._

“Patrick, what happened?”

_Step three: pretend you don’t remember_

“I d-don’t know.” I stumbled over my drunken words.

“Patrick, please go back to your room-“

“What? So you t-two can go f-fuck?” I had no control over what I was saying. I stepped forward a couple of steps, and Pete stepped back, holding Skye tighter.

“No, Patrick, I-“ Pete started, but he couldn’t find the right words to say. That’s right, just stab your best friend in the back.

_Step four: drink a little more_

I downed the rest of the whiskey. I had found a small bottle in my room somewhere, and after finishing my first bottle, drank about half of that. Now, I had nothing left, but two empty bottles in my hand.

“Patrick.”

“Pete.”

He glared at me. My best friend, Pete, was stealing the woman I love. He knew I liked her, I had even confessed to him. But no, that meant nothing. Because Patrick Stump doesn’t mean anything to anyone, he’s just someone people can run over and take advantage of. Pete didn’t know I was in love with her, but it was pretty fucking obvious. They would both love it if I were dead and out of the way. Maybe I should listen to them and just leave.

“Patrick, please go to your room.  _Please._ ” Pete begged.

“Why should I?” I yelled. “Maybe I should just go to the roof, and jump, right? Because nobody wants Patrick fucking Stump, everyone would be better off without him!”

“P-Patrick, t-that’s not true.” Skye sobbed, looking me in the eyes.

“Shut up, you bitch!” Before I realized what I was doing, I threw the empty glass bottles at them. I had missed, hitting the walls on either side of them. Skye was screaming.

_Step five; I need to run dry._

I felt myself fall backwards and everything went black.

 


	17. Chapter Sixteen

 

They say life isn’t waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain.

But it’s hard to dance when you’re dancing alone.

Again.

“Skye, please open the door,” Pete said from the hallway. I was currently lying face down on my pillow that was damp with tears.

“Go away,” I mumbled. Maybe if I pushed my face into the pillow more, I could suffocate myself, and-

My reflexes kicked in and I bolted upright and gasped, leading to me having a cough attack.

Pete’s knocking grew louder. “Skye, are you okay?” He asked frantically. He sighed. “Skye, at least say something.”

I didn’t. I just walked up to the door and opened it. I immediately wrapped Pete in a hug that I didn’t realize I needed. The only human contact I had in three days was going to the kitchen to get food, and then returning to my locked bedroom.

I didn’t realize I was sobbing violently into his shirt until he had already closed the door behind him, picked me up, and carried me back to my bed. He tried to put me down, but I had balled his shirt up in my fists. He murmured something that sounded like a ‘fine’, but I couldn’t comprehend what he was saying. He sat on the bed beside me and wrapped me in his arms, letting me soak his t-shirt with my tears. It felt like we sat like this for an eternity, but was probably only half an hour, at most.

“I trusted him,” I whispered after what felt like forever.

He pulled away and looked me in the eyes. “I know Skye, but you have to realize, he’s only human, he had to have his reasons. If you two talked about it, you would know. The world-“

“Expects too much of him.” I finished for him. “I know. I just- I hate seeing him like this. I lo-lik-li-, I, really, I-“

“It’s okay, you’re confused.” Was I, though? Three days ago, when I had seen the side of Patrick I wish I never had, I thought I was in love with him. But what was love? I had never been in love before. Heck, I’ve never even had a friend. Sure, I’ve had a couple stupid crushes, but this was more than your stupid middle school crush. But was it really love?

“How do you know when you’re in love?” I looked Pete in the eye.

“All the songs make sense.” I thought Pete had responded to me, but his voice was different and his lips didn’t move. I looked over my shoulder to see Patrick standing in the doorway.

He looked awful. He wasn’t wearing his usual fedora, and his hair hadn’t been washed or combed in a couple of days, leaving it oily and sticking out everywhere. His glasses sat crooked on his nose, which was a bright pink. Bags lay under his bloodshot, puffy eyes, and he looked like he had been wearing the same outfit for a few days. But I wasn’t one to judge him because I looked the exact same. We were a mess.

“I’ll leave you two alone, then,” Pete said, and patted my shoulder. I mumbled a ‘thanks’, and he smiled and left the room.

“Patrick-“

“No, Skye, stop right there. I’m so fucking sorry. I-“ He couldn’t continue because he broke out in sobs. He fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around the back of his head and neck, resting his forehead against the floor.  _I did this to him._

This was my entire fault. I had plenty of money now, I made enough to afford monthly rent. If I had moved out maybe a week sooner, we wouldn’t be in this mess. I made him hurt himself badly, to the point where he was still hurting days later. I was a monster. I was no better than my mother.

I ran over to him and held him tightly in my arms. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Don’t blame yourself, Patrick. You’re the best person that I have ever met.” I sighed and was about to say that I had made my mind about moving out when he cut me off.

“No, I’m not.” He looked at me like a lost puppy, and I could feel my heart split in two. “I’m a monster. After everything that you’ve been through, I went and put you through more of it. I’m a fucking idiot, Skye, I’m sorry, I should just- I, I didn’t mean to hurt you in any way.” I thought back to the events of a few nights ago.

_“Why should I?” He yelled. “Maybe I should just go to the roof, and jump, right? Because nobody wants Patrick fucking Stump, everyone would be better off without him!”_

_“P-Patrick, t-that’s not true.” I sobbed, looking him in the eyes._

“Patrick, about what you said that night-“

He cut me off. “Everything I called you, I didn’t mean. I was drunk, I would never hurt you.”

“This isn’t about me, Patrick. It’s about you.” He looked completely confused.

He fixed his glasses on his face and sat up, so he was sitting next to me on the floor. He was barely two inches taller than me, but he had longer legs. So when we sat down, we were the exact same height and could look into each other’s eyes perfectly. “What do you mean?”

I sighed. “They say that when you are drunk, some of the things that you do or say are some of the things you have always wanted to, but never had the chance to.” He was still confused and was about to speak again, but I stopped him. “You said th-that, you-you w-wanted” My voice started quivering and my vision became blurred with tears. I took a deep breath and spoke again. “It was right before you threw the bottles at Pete and me.”

His confused facial expressions changed into a look of guilt. “Oh.” He mumbled. “That thing. Did I tell you everything that happened that night?”

“No.” I shook my head.

“Well, you went to Aaron’s and Connor’s and Pete took your siblings out for the day, and so I was home alone. Well, until my ex broke into my apartment. We had been together for ten years, since about eighth grade. She cheated on me more than a couple of times. She wanted me back, and after I refused, she said a few things and then left, and I didn’t know what to do, so I just decided to be an idiot and drank.”

It was probably my fault that the bitch was in his apartment. She had probably seen a press report of us together and had gotten jealous. There was only one solution to this whole mess we were in.

“I’m moving out.”

His head jerked up to look at me and he had a look of shock on his face. “What?”

“You knew that I wasn’t going to live with you forever, I’ve been doing nothing but causing you pain. I don’t want you to be hurt, Patrick. When you’re hurt, I’m hurt too. I’m probably going to start looking for a place this week-“

“No.” He grabbed my arm. “Stay.”

Why would he want me to stay? I was obviously just another person to look after, as were my siblings. I either hurt someone or got hurt every other day. “Why?”

And before I knew what was going on, his lips were on mine.

 


	18. Chapter Seventeen

Some people say that there are only two true human emotions: love and fear.

As soon as his lips came in contact with mine, I felt the first of the two, love. But the kiss lasted for not even five seconds, and he hadn’t given me the chance to react before he pulled away. That’s when I felt the second of the two emotions, fear. He had done that out of pity. I had been going through some deep shit, with the return of my mother through text, me being attacked, and now me wanting to move out. He didn’t like me, he just likes having me around for his own amusement. He just pulled that stunt to trick me into thinking that he liked me, so I wouldn’t leave.

“Shit.” He let go of my arm and rubbed his forehead. “Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that- well I did, but, shit- hold on.” He took a deep breath before pulling himself back together. “Skye, I know you’ve been through a lot of crap lately, and I just made it worse, because you don’t even like me in that way. But I do, and I have ever since I saw you that first day in the subway station. Normally I ignore people like that, but you’re different. I had completely given up on women after Elisa. I was paranoid that every woman I met and trusted would go behind my back. But you fixed me, and after she came back, I just, I _really_ need you right now. I can’t let you go that easily. When I found you lying in the Alley, I thought-“ He took a deep breath after saying everything so quickly.

“I thought I had lost you, Skye.” His voice quivered. “And that’s when I realized that I really _really_ like you, and I thought that I would never get to tell you that. And I know you think that I’m just telling you that so you could stay, but I’m not. I’m letting you know this so that when you move out, at least I won’t regret not telling you.” He was silent after that, and I had no idea how to respond. I tried to talk, but I failed to come up with anything to say. My mouth was probably making all weird shapes, but he was looking down and couldn’t see me. I had never even had a friend, I have no idea how it feels to actually have the person you like, like you back.

But now I did, and my stomach was flipping as I stared at the fedora less boy sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of me. “Please say something.” He whispered. But instead of words escaping my mouth, I lifted his chin up so he could look me in the eyes before I crashed my lips into his.

He immediately responded by moving his lips in sync with mine. His arms wrapped around my waist in a protective, yet gentle way, which caused butterflies to erupt in my stomach. I rested my arms on his shoulders, clasping my hands behind his neck as I melted into his embrace. It was all the makings of a cheesy romance novel, the sparks flying, the butterflies in the stomach, the weakness in the knees, everything.

At this point, I had realized that this was my first kiss. Well, technically my second, as he kissed me once before he started rambling, but this was how I had always imagined it to be. His touch alone was enough to make me fall limp, and his kiss made me feel like I could pass out at any moment. I felt weightless, he made me forget everything that I worried about.

He pulled me closer to his body so I was sitting in his lap, straddling his hips. His tongue moved across my bottom lip, but being the stubborn bitch I am, I refused. I could feel him smile mischievously into the kiss as he squeezed my sides, causing me to squeal and for him to enter his tongue in my mouth. But he didn’t kiss me in the rushed, sloppily way that someone would describe how their ex-kissed them. It was passionate, and at that point, I realized that I was falling hard for this boy, and he was doing the same.

After what seemed like an eternity, we finally pulled away, gasping for air. I was pressed to his chest, and I could feel our hearts beating together. I looked into his eyes as he muttered a ‘wow’. I ruined the moment as I burst into a fit of giggles.

His face fell. “What?” He looked upset and I immediately felt guilty.

“My hair is stuck in your glasses.”

His face immediately went red and a small smirk appeared on his now swollen lips. “Oh.” We spent the next minute giggling as we were trying to get my hair out of his glasses. When we finally did, I immediately stole them and put them on my face.

“You should steal my glasses more often, they make you look hot.” He said as I bit my lip and felt my cheeks heat up.

“You’re probably saying that because you can’t see,” I smirked and placed them back on his face.

“No Skye, I mean it.” He looked me in the eyes, and from the look on his face, I could tell that he really did. “You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. No one tells you that enough. But I want to, I want to be able to tell you that every waking second of every single day. I love being able to wake up next to you almost every morning, but I don’t want it to be because of your nightmares and trouble sleeping. I want to be able to spend every moment I can with you. And oh my God, I sound like a lovesick teenager right now, but that’s how you make me feel.” He took a deep breath before speaking again.

“Skye, will you be my girlfriend?” I almost couldn’t understand him because he talked so fast.

I threw my arms around him and buried my face in his t-shirt so he couldn’t see my red face and my grin that almost reached my ears.

“Yes.” I breathed.

And before I knew it, we were sharing our third kiss of the day.

\--------------------------------

“Skye, get your lazy ass up.” I rolled over and stared at Pete and Patrick, who were so desperately trying to get me up.

“What time is it?” I groaned as I haven’t completely woken up yet.

“It’s Seven o’clock-“ Pete started

“Oh my God I can’t believe you guys let me sleep all day, you dicks!” I bolted upright and screamed at them, as Patrick began to laugh at my sudden change of actions and my choice of words.

“In… the morning,” Patrick said between fits of laughter. My boyfriend was an idiot. Wait. My boyfriend. Just the thought of that was enough to make me smile. Patrick gave me a soft smile back, and Pete just looked between the two of us before shrugging and speaking again.

“Well, You kind of missed five days of work, and only one was excused because you were in the hospital, and you should probably get down there as soon as possible…” he trailed off.

“Shit!” I threw the covers off. “Okay, thank you, now get out of my room!” I was definitely not a morning person.

\-------------------------------

“Miss Black, I’m glad you finally cared enough to show up.” My boss said the second I walked through the doors.

“Look, Mr. Sparkson. I didn’t mean to intentionally skip work without notice, I was in the hospital and the recovery took longer than-“

“You’re fired.” I blinked a couple of times, making sure that I heard him right. “Well, don’t just stand there. Leave!”

“Are you _kidding_ me? I got attacked and you-“

“If you were in able to work a cash register because you were injured so badly, I highly doubt the hospital would have let you go. We have a strict policy regarding not calling in sick, Miss Black, it was in your contract. If you miss work three times or more unexcused, you will be let go without pay for your final week.”

I took a deep breath and was about to say something, but I completely forgot what it was when Aaron walked in for his shift.

“Hey, glad to see you’re up and moving again!” He said over enthusiastically, as I gave him a look that said ‘not now’. “What’s going on here?”

“I was-“

“Miss Black over here has been absent from work for five days without notice, and we have a strict policy against that. So, she was fired.”

Aaron was outraged. “What? You can’t do that! She was in the goddamn _hospital_ because she was attacked! Isn’t that a good enough reason?”

“Now now, Markson, that’s no way to talk to your boss-“

“You’re not my boss anymore!” He screamed. “I’ve had enough of your shit, I quit!” At this point, the few customers and employees in the shop were all staring at us and the scene that we had caused.

“Great. I’m glad to kill two birds with one stone.” He smiled.

“Excuse me?” I cut in. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you see, customers really aren’t comfortable around emo faggots like yourselves-“

“What. Did. You. Call. Me?” To be honest, I was kind of scared of Aaron. He was absolutely livid right now.

“I’ve seen you and your little fu-“

“Alright, we’re out of here.” I grabbed Aaron’s arm and began dragging him out of the store before he could do anything that he would regret later on. As soon as we got out of the store, Aaron wouldn’t speak to me.

“Aaron,” I stated firmly. He looked at me and he had tears in his eyes. I gave him a hug, or at least attempted to, as he was a good foot taller than me.

He pushed me away and led me to his car. “I need to re-introduce someone to you, the right way.”

\----------------------------

_***Aaron’s POV*** _

“Uh, you, uh can j-just make yourself comfortable on the c-couch in the kitchen. Uh, I mean the living room, b-but there’s food in the kitchen in the fridge, Uh, I mean, the f-frid-“

“I get it, Aaron.” Skye placed a hand on my shoulder as she realized I was shaking uncontrollably, before walking off to the couch. I ran a hand through my hair that desperately needed a trim as I made my way over to my room, where Connor was sitting on the bed.

“Shit, Aaron, what’s wrong?” He instantly sprang up off the bed and held me as he noticed me shaking and the tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

“I- uh, I quit my job,” I muttered. Great, now he was going to hate me, that was our main source of income and we could already hardly afford our rent.

“Hey, it’s okay, but, can I ask why?” He lifted his chin to look me in the eyes. He was short, not as short as Skye or Patrick, but a good six inches shorter than me.

“Well, uh Skye was in the hospital, you know that part. Well, something happened between her and Patrick, she didn’t tell me what, and she hasn’t left her apartment in days, and she came into work today and was fired for being absent without notice.”

“And?” He noticed me trail off at the end, and he knew there was something else.

“Well, my boss is, or was, homophobic I guess, and he called us, uh, _that_ word and was about to say more but Skye dragged me out of there and I’m glad she did because I would’ve punched him.” I sighed. “I hate not being able to be openly gay without people saying anything. And now I have to tell Skye because she’s our friend and she witnessed me overreact and now she’s never going to want to see me again and-“

Connor cut me off by standing on his toes and giving me a quick kiss on the lips. “Hey, it’s gonna be alright, okay? She seems like a great girl, I promise she won’t hate you.” He laced his fingers with mine and led me to the living room.

“Aaron, are you okay? I’ve never seen you that mad and- are you crying?” She stood up so she could see me better.

“Promise me you won’t hate me?” I whispered, and I didn’t think she could hear me due to my low volume and the fact that she didn’t respond. Great, she already suspected something because of our boss, and she can’t promise that because she already does. Or maybe she will promise me that, and she’ll just leave me just like every single one of my friends did back in high school. She would tell Patrick and Pete and the rest of her friends and I’ll even be hated by the band that helped save my life. She’s had her fair share of violence and would end up beating me senseless just like the majority of my class did to Connor and me when they found out we were dating. This was a little over two years ago and it still haunts me every day.

“Aaron? AARON!” She snapped me out my thoughts. “Why would I hate you?”

“Because I’m gay,” I mumbled and looked at Connor. He looked upset, and it was probably because I was scared to admit to people that we’re in a relationship. He probably thinks I’m ashamed of him, but I love this boy more than anyone or anything that could ever exist. Just the mention of his name was enough to make me smile. All I wanted to do was tell everyone that he was mine, that I was in love with Connor Ray Davis.

“CAARON!” She screamed.

“What?” I was shocked at her reaction, I would have expected her to start laughing or something.

“Like, your ship name? Aanor, uh, yea that’s all I got.” I was still in shock at her reaction. “Oh don’t look at me like you’re surprised that I’m not surprised. The moment I was the two of you in the hospital together I knew you would be cute together, but I didn’t think you were actually dating.”

I looked down at Connor and smiled at him, as I let go of his hand to wrap an arm around his waist and pull him closer to me. “I love you,” I whispered in his ear and planted a kiss on his cheek, causing both him and Skye to squeal, which made me laugh.

“Oh my gosh Skye, you’re definitely a fangirl,” Connor said.

“Hey, you squealed too!” I teased him. He mouthed a ‘shut up’ at me and playfully shoved my shoulder.

“Shit!” Skye yelled and jumped up. “Ah sorry, I do that too often. I just forgot to let Patrick know where I was.” She quickly typed something into her phone before shoving it in her back pocket. “Now, Connor, Aaron said you had a bass?”


	19. Chapter Eighteen

I smiled as I walked from the elevator to Patrick’s- my apartment. Despite my fucked up life, things were going great. I was starting a band with two of my best friends, one of which had let me borrow his spare bass until I could afford one of my own, and I had a boyfriend, who attacked me as soon as I walked into the apartment.

“Holy shit, Patrick! Calm down!” I yelled as he pulled me into a bear hug.

He pulled away and looked me in the eyes sternly. “I bought you a new phone for a reason, Skye. Why didn’t you text or call me saying you were staying out later? With your mom and everything you scared me half to death, and where did you get that-“

“What are you talking about?” I cut him off as he gave me a confused look. “I texted you and left you a message on your phone because you didn’t pick up.”

“Oh.” He looked down at his phone. “Uh, my phone was on airplane mode…” He trailed off as his face went red.

“Dumbass!” I called and walked into the living room.

“That is no way to talk to your boyfriend!” He playfully called back and I giggle.

Immediately Andy, who I had not seen before, jumped up from the couch. “ _Boyfriend?_ ” My cheeks immediately turned red.

“I knew it!” Two men I didn’t recognize at first joined Andy.

“Peter Wentz and Joe Trohman, what the hell did you do to your hair?”

“Well, you sister decided to stick her gum in my hair and I couldn’t get it out. I needed a change anyways.” Joe had gotten rid of his famous joe-fro by cutting it off.

“Well, that’s great, but it doesn’t explain the lemon head to your right.” Pete had shaved his head and dyed the little hair he had blonde.

“It makes me look like a lemon pie!” He said and winked, as Andy and Joe snickered. I rolled my eyes at his childish behavior as I made my way to my room, where Ryan and Rose were going through my drawers.

“What are you guys doing?” I screamed. I was allowed to yell at them, I was their sister.

“We’re going to play dress up!” Ryan yelled as he put one of my bras on his head. “See? I’m Mickey Mouse!”

My cheeks went red as I realized what he was doing. “Give me that!” I snatched it off of his head and pointed to the door. “Get out! Both of you!”

“But we want to play dress-“ Rose began.

“Go play dress up with Pete’s clothes! Or Patrick’s! Or both, I don’t care, just not mine!” I pushed them out of the door and was about to slam it when Patrick stopped it with his foot.

“Not with mine please!” He yelled down the hall at them and they dashed into Pete’s room. “They really are something.”

“This is exactly why you don’t leave them unsupervised.” Instead of coming up with a smart comeback or blaming Pete, he took my bra out of my hand and put it on his head, like Ryan did.

“Look! I’m Mickey Mouse!” He said in an overly high pitched voice.

I buried my head in my hands. “You’re a dork!” I screamed. By now, Andy, Pete, and Joe had figured out what was going on and was now in a fit of laughter. My face was burning as I realized Pete was videotaping this.

“Give it back!” I whined, attempting to grab it off of his head.

A smirk spread across his face. “Not until you give me a kiss!”

Once again, I rolled my eyes at the fact that I was living with four men who acted as if they were ten. I went to give him a kiss on the cheek, but he turned his head at the last second and turned what was supposed to be a peck on the cheek into a full out make out session. Joe was making cat calls, Andy was dying of laughter, and Pete was still video recording when I flipped them off.

“Eww!” Patrick and I immediately broke apart and started laughing when Ryan and Rose had emerged from Pete’s room wearing his basketball shorts like dresses and were disgusted by the fact that Patrick and I were now making out in the hallway, and he was still balancing a bra on his hat.

“Are those mine?” Pete yelled, and I took this as my chance to escape and dash into my room, Patrick close behind, and he shut the door behind us.

“Can I please have my bra back now?” I glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost 11, and I had been out all day.

“Not until you tell me where you’ve been all day. And your text saying that you were ‘out’ doesn’t cut it.” He crossed his arms. I scratched the back of my neck. How was he going to react when I told him that I got fired? If I didn’t get another job soon, I wouldn’t be able to pay for my own food. Again. “You can tell me anything.”

I sighed. “I, uh, kinda got fired…” I pressed my lips into a line and waited for a reaction.

“You missed too many days without calling in?” He asked and I nodded my head. “Go on.”

“Well, uh, Aaron found out and he quit because he thought it was bullshit because I was in the hospital. Then, he kind of got into an argument with my former boss. He may or may not have said he was glad he quit after I was fired because he didn’t want ‘emo faggots’ working for him.” I still cringed at that word. “He got really upset because he’s gay, and he took me back to his apartment to reintroduce me to his boyfriend, Connor, who was in the hospital after I was attacked, and then we kinda decided to have a jam session or whatever you call it, and that’s where I got this bass. I’m sorry for not telling you.”

He wrapped me in a hug. “I’m sorry for being slightly overprotective.” He said and I giggled a bit. “You’ve had a long day, you should get some sleep.”

I nodded. “Good night, Patrick.”

“Good night.”

\----------------------------

_***** _ _**Patrick’s** _ __ _**POV** _ _***** _

I bolted upright out of my sleep in a cold sweat. I hadn’t had a nightmare since Skye had shown up in my life, but the demons came back to haunt me in my sleep ever since she was put in the hospital.

I leaned forward and put my head in my hands. My nightmares used to all involve how either all women were evil (which Elisa led me to believe) or about my insecurities and low self-esteem. Neither of these nightmares had come back, yet. Now, every one of my nightmares ended up with Skye getting hurt by her mother. But this last one had been different. Instead of her mother abusing her, it was a man. And when he turned to face me, I was terrified to see that the man was myself.

The sound of voices rising in my living room interrupted my thoughts. I glanced at the clock to see that it was past two in the afternoon, and I had been sleeping forever. I patted around my nightstand until I found my glasses and put them on while dragging myself out of bed and into the living room, where Skye, Aaron, and Connor were debating over something in the living room. Pete, Joe, and Andy were in the kitchen, watching the argument as a form of entertainment. I made my way to the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” I croaked, as I had just woken up.

Joe turned to me. “They’re fighting over a band name. It’s quite amusing.” He was right. Aaron and Connor were suggesting random names that sounded like they belonged to a death metal band. Skye was trying to come up with a good name, but after a few failed attempts, she turned to an online band name generator, and the names that the three of them were coming up with were hysterical.

I smirked. “I remember when we were at that stage.” The rest of them let out a small laugh.

“Yea. Oh, and Skye wanted to talk to you once you got up. She said it was important.” Pete said. On cue, Skye slipped out of the argument and came into the kitchen, pulling me into the hallway.

“What’s up?” It was more of a demand to tell me what was going on rather than a question.

“Are you okay?” She asked, worry seeping through her voice. “Last night, you seemed to be having a nightmare, and I couldn’t wake you up. You’ve been having them ever since I’ve been in the hospital. What’s going on?”

“I’m fine, I just worry that you’re not. I may seem overprotective, but I just want you safe.” I breathed. She wrapped her arms around me and I pulled her tight.

“I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay, I promise.”

 


	20. Chapter Nineteen

“Everyone just shut up!” I screeched. I was in Connor and Aaron’s apartment, arguing about band names once again.

“Well, we kind of need a name in order to start a band-“ Connor began.

I cut him off. “True, but we also need a full band, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we don’t have a drummer yet, and we haven’t written a single song.”

“Wait!” Aaron yelled before running off, returning moments later with a crumpled piece of paper. “I tried writing a song at the end of senior year, and it turned out kinda crappy. Well, I did like a few lines, so I put them together into a pre-chorus and chorus thing, but that’s about as far as I got. I don’t have a title, I was thinking Afraid, but that’s kind of simple. It’s a bit about Connor and I coming out in High School and other things, and yea.” He handed me the piece of paper.

_How I look for you_

_But I can’t see your face_

_And then I hear you_

_The only thing you say…_

_I am afraid right now_

_I don’t wanna let you down_

_And I am the one who can’t be saved_

_The only thing I say…_

_I am afraid right now_

_What if I can’t get out?_

_What if I don’t want to be saved?_

_This is me afraid_

I was stunned. “Wow, this is-“

“Shitty, yea I know, I tried and I just-“

“Dude, shut up!” I blurted. “This is amazing!”

He seemed shocked. “Really?”

“He underestimates himself. A lot. He thinks he can’t write lyrics but he can. He has fragments of more songs. Also, he’s great at creating harmonies, and he can scream.” Connor but in.

“You can scream?” I squealed and he nodded. “Oh man, this band is going to be great!” I was extremely excited right now. Piece by piece, this was starting to look more like a band. My phone buzzing in my pocket interrupted my thoughts that had just barely begun. I checked the caller ID and it was Patrick.

“I’m just going to take this. You two can argue about a band name if you must.” I stepped out of the room and answered the call. “Hello?”

“I’ve got great news!” Patrick beamed from the other end of the phone. “So Mr. Simmons, the private investigator called, and he said that you have a great case. There’s a ton of evidence, they went back to your house and there were broken bottles and dried blood and stuff, so your siblings don’t have to give a statement unless it’s taken to court, which it probably won’t. They’re looking for your mother, and you’ve been granted custody of your siblings, you just have to sign a couple of papers that he’s mailing to the apartment.” I was speechless. I didn’t know what to say. After dreaming of this day forever, it finally came. “Skye, are you there?”

“Yeah,” I responded. “It’s just, I never thought this day would come.” I let out a breath at the end of that sentence, one that I had been holding since the day my father was diagnosed. He could probably hear my smile on the other end of the phone.

“So, that’s why I called. I’ll let you be-“

“Wait!” I interrupted. “Do you know anyone who plays the drums and is looking for a band?”

He thought about it for a moment. “Oh yea, in a few days my friend is coming to visit, and he met this girl in Boston who is an amazing drummer, and he’s been asking Pete to find a band for her. I can have her come with him if you want?”

“Yes! Thank you so much! You are the best!” I was jumping up and down right now. We might finally have a full band!

“I know.” He laughed. “Bye.”

“Bye.” I hung up and walked into the room, where there was a lack of arguing. “Where’s all the fighting over the name?”

“We thought of one!” Connor responded. “It’s called Purple Sweater Vests and Combat Boots!”

I gave him a glare. “Where the hell did you get that name from? It’s the worst one you’ve come up with so far!”

They laughed. “I’m kidding. It’s Obsessionz. With a ‘z’ at the end.”

That was the first good name either of them had come up with, and I loved it. “Wow, you guys actually did something productive.”

“Hey! I wrote us lyrics, and Connor got us a name? What have you done for this band?” Aaron argued.

“I got us a drummer,” I said, with a smirk on my face.

“What?” They screamed.

“Yes, you’re welcome. Patrick’s friend is visiting in a few days, and he met this girl in Boston who is apparently a great drummer. He’s been wanting Pete to suggesting a band for her to join for a while now. And she can be in Obsessionz.”

They attacked me in a hug and yelled a chorus of ‘thank you’s, ‘oh my God’s, and ‘you’re the best’s, among others.

\---------------------

When Patrick said his friend was coming in ‘a few days’, I expected at least three. I did not expect to wake up the next morning with two strangers talking to Patrick and Pete in the living room. Well, I knew one of them.

“Hey Patrick, you failed to mention that your friend just so happens to be Brendon Urie.” I turned to face Brendon and the girl, who was most likely the drummer. “Hello, I’m Skye. With an ‘e’ at the end.”

“I’m Brendon, as you already know.” He stood up and shook my hand. He was a good five inches taller than me, and I immediately felt self-conscious about my height. Apart from Aaron, I had been hanging out with short people for a while now, and almost forgot what it was like to be short.

“I’m Emma Lee, but you can just call me Emma.” I shook her hand. She was a bit taller than Brendon, about 5’10”. She had olive skin, black eyes and black hair that reached her waist, but she had faded red streaks in it. “So Brendon here said that you were starting a band?”

“Yea. It’s called Obsessionz, with a ‘z’. I’m in it with my friends Aaron and Connor, they both play guitar, Aaron’s going to do backing vocals, and I sing and play bass. Once Connor gets off of work, we can go over to their place and you can show us what you got.” I said with a wink. “I finally will be able to talk to a girl. I’ve been hanging around with guys for so long that I probably act like one.”

She laughed. “Oh no, don’t worry. I’m the same way. Brendon’s my only friend, I never had a friend in school…” She trailed off.

“Hey, high five for socially awkward human being who didn’t have any friends in school!” We high fived and burst out laughing. Emma was great, and we immediately became friends. We spent the next hour talking, giggling, gossiping, and acting like your typical high school girls. She started playing drums as soon as she could walk, and loved writing poetry and music. She also had the biggest crush on Brendon, whenever she mentioned a funny story about the two of them, her cheeks would turn the slightest shade of pink. She was staying with him at Joe and Andy’s for the next week or so, and if she joined the band, she could stay. If not, she was still a great friend to have.

\---------------------------------

When Brendon said that Emma was an amazing drummer, it was an understatement. Halfway through her first song (she auditioned with three different songs), we all silently agreed that she was the official drummer for the band.

“Yes.” Was the only word that the three of us could manage after her drumming. She immediately squealed and thanked us.

“I’ve been looking for a band for almost a year now, I have been looking for one since the end of senior year. I can’t believe it’s finally happening!” She continued to squeal and jump around. Eventually, we joined her.

We were officially a band.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Afraid - Yellowcard


	21. Chapter Twenty

 

"Skye, I can't believe we've visited seven different stores and you haven't picked out a single dress!" This morning, Patrick had left me a note saying that he was picking me up at Seven and that I was to wear something nice, but it didn't have to be too nice. He didn't tell me what it was for, or where we were going, and I had realized the only nice piece of clothing that I owned was a blazer, and he wouldn't appreciate if I showed up only wearing that. Well, I mean, he's a guy and he might be into that kind of stuff, but I wasn't, but that's not the point. I was sitting in a Starbucks in the mall, listening to Emma complain about my lack of appreciation for dresses.

"It's not my fault that very few places carry my size! And the ones that do have padding on the chest that's bigger than my boobs!" I protest, and she sighs.

"Well, we've visited every place that I know that carries nice dresses, so I'm out of ideas." She sighs again, taking another sip of her coffee that I couldn't even attempt to pronounce. She was the whitest Hispanic girl that I knew.

"What about Hot Topic?" I suggest and she gives me a look. "What? They have nice clothes!"

She grabs her bag and stands up. "Fine, but it's not my problem if you look like a Goth" I grab my mocha-whatever and dash to Hot Topic.

"Welcome to Hot Topic, all Tees are buy one get one 50%- oh hey guys!" Connor said from the cash register. He was dressed in the all-black uniform, and it was weird seeing him without a band t-shirt on.

"You work here?" I exclaimed.

He nodded his head. "I get discounts on pretty much everything here. I could probably get you an extra discount, too. I'll throw in a Fall Out Boy shirt if you want to impress your boyfriend." Emma laughed and I rolled my eyes.

"No, she's trying to impress him with a dress." Emma said from behind me.

"Are you a classic like a little black dress?" He says, quoting Fall Out Boy for what was probably the 50th time today. I swear, him and Aaron probably tell each other Fall Out Boy pickup lines. While the two of them continued to fangirl and boy over them, I walked to the back of the store and instantly spotted the perfect dress.

It was a spaghetti strapped knee-length dress, but it was covered in lace. It extended beyond the straps to halfway to the elbow and covered the open back of the dress. It flowed freely away from the tight skirt of the black dress, giving it an extra dimension. I checked to see if they had one in my size, and they thankfully did. If they didn't, I would have cried in the middle of the store. I grabbed it as if there were someone else in the store who would take it from me. I also picked up a pair of knee-high black socks and threw them on the counter.

"Oh my God, no! You have to try it on first!" Emma squealed.

"Calm down, I know it'll look good. Trust me." I said and handed Connor my credit card, and he placed my items in the bag.

"No Fall Out Boy shirt for you?" He teased, not giving me the bag.

"Just give me the goddamn dress."

\------------------------------------

"Damn girl, you should shop at Hot Topic more often," Emma said as I walked out of my room. I was wearing the dress and knee socks, along with a pair of black Mary Jane's, which had once upon a time belonged to Emma.

"They didn't have one in my hometown, I had to shop online for my band merch if I had any money." I sighed.

"Well, you look great. He'll love it." She smiled, as there was a knock on the door. "Oh my God, this is your first date! I helped you get ready for your first date!" She squealed as she ran to the door and opened it, revealing Patrick. He was wearing her fedora as usual, along with a black blazer and shirt, black dress pants and shoes. "Aw, you two are matching! You're too cute!" I swear she was too excited about all of this.

Before she could fangirl anymore, Patrick took my hand and led me out of the door and to the elevators, where he pressed the up button.

"Uh, did you mean to press the down button?" I asked and he shook his head. "Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

The ride in the elevator was silent as we ascended to the top floor. He was constantly adjusting his fedora and fixing his hair, and was obviously nervous. I, on the other hand, was confused. Was there a restaurant on the top floor that I didn't know about? I mean, some apartments had restaurants, but they were usually on the ground floor. Where was he taking me? When the doors opened, he grabbed my hand and led me to a flight of stairs that said ' _roof access_ '. He led me up the flight of stairs and stopped at the door at the top. I turned to give him a confused look.

"Close your eyes." I did what he said, and he put his hands over my eyes in case I decided to peek. I heard the door open and h guided me forward into the cool air. "We stood there for a few seconds before he removed his hands and spoke again. "You can open them now."

I did as he said, and almost gasped. The sun was just beginning to set, sending streaks of color throughout the sky. The gray columns of buildings rested on the sky, and every so often, single squares of light would begin to illuminate each building, as people would turn on their lights, creating a gorgeous skyline. But there was more than that. Christmas lights were laced around the fencing of the roof, adding to the soft, colorful glow on the concrete. In the middle of the rood was a typical red and white checkered blanket, along with a basket, which I made my way over to and sat down.

"This is beautiful," I said, smiling, as Patrick sat down next to me.

"For a beautiful girl." He gave me a soft kiss on the cheek and I blushed. As cliché as this date was, it was amazing. I reached for the basket but he stopped me. "Uh, so I can't cook..." He trailed off, taking out thermoses with Ramen Noodles in them, and I burst out laughing. Okay, so this wasn't as cliché as I thought.

I grabbed my thermos from him and tapped mine against his. "Cheers!" I said, making him laugh.

"So this is normally the part where I say 'tell me about yourself', but I don't know what there is to learn about you." He admitted.

"So like, my back-story?" I asked and he nodded. "Like a character in some crappy novel because the author can't weave it into the story itself?"

We spent the rest of the night like that, eating and laughing and making fun of cliché first dates we've been on in the past (or in  _his_  past, since this was my first first date), along with the occasional kiss. Well, more than occasional. We were in the middle of our God-knows-how-many-th kiss when there was a loud thunderclap from above, and it began to pour rain.

"Jesus Christ, this is a new dress.." I muttered, and Patrick began to laugh. "What?"

"It's just- you're the last person I would expect to care about a dress." He said and I smiled a bit. "At least you're not screaming and running back inside and away from me. That would have been a horrible way to end a first date." I raised my eyebrows and gave him a smirk. "Oh no, please don't run out on me-"

"I'm kidding!" I laughed. "Besides, don't most dates end with a kiss?"

And that was how I got my kiss in the rain.

\------------------------------------

I stood up from my bed and instantly regretted it. A thundering pain shot through my head, and I immediately fell back onto the mattress with a groan. After dragging myself out of bed, I was finally able to make my way to the kitchen, where I made a cup of desperately needed coffee.

"Well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." Pete, who was rummaging through the fridge, noted. I tried to respond, but all I was able to do was cough until my lungs felt like they were on fire. "Here, let me take your temperature." I followed him to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, where he took my temperature and I did have a fever, and he gave me some medicine.

"Patrick is at the store right now, thank God he is or else he would be having a heart attack because there was something wrong." He said and I laughed, or at least began to, until I began to cough my lungs up once again. "Sorry, my bad. Why don't you lie down on the couch, I'll get your blanket and pillow, and I'll make you more coffee?" I nodded my head and mouthed a 'thanks', knowing that I wouldn't be able to speak. As soon as I did so, the door opened and my siblings began to run over, and Ryan jumped on my stomach, causing me to start coughing and wheezing, as soon as Patrick walked in.

"Oh my God, Skye are-" I held my hand up, motioning for him to stop, and I continued to cough and Pete started laughing.

"I told you he would do this," Pete said. "Bro, she's fine, she just has a fever and a cough. I gave her medicine. Relax."

"Oh my God, this is my fault, I should have taken you inside once it started raining, or I got you sick, I'm sorry it's my fault..."

He continued to ramble on, and still unable to speak, I sent him a text.

**_To: Patrick_ **

_Bruh. Shut up._

He immediately stopped once his phone dinged and pulled it out of his pocket to read it. Once he did, he gave me a look. "Really? Bruh?" He shook his head, trying hard not to grin, and walked away.

**_From: Emma_ **

_Hey, we have band. Where are you?_

Oh shit, I had forgotten about that. I was kind of busy coughing my lungs up until they felt like they were being punctured.

**_To: Emma_ **

_Sorry, I completely forgot, and I'm sick and can't make it. Is there anything I can do by myself?_

**_From: Emma_ **

_Actually, do you think you could come up with the verses for Afraid? Right now we're building off of the melody you gave us, and writing the music and stuff. We're just stuck on lyrics._

**_To: Emma_ **

_I got you. I'll text it to you once I finish._

I grabbed a scrap piece of paper off of the table and a pen and just began brainstorming lines I could use. I wrote them in the forms of paragraphs, or lines, or verses, and sometimes I just listed different adjectives. I just let the ink flow my pen, never stopping. If I stopped, then I would get writer's block.

After a good hour, I had completely filled up every square inch of the paper. I went to grab another, but there was no more. I was too weak, well, too lazy, to get up, so I texted Pete.

**_To: Pete_ **

_Hey nurse, can you get me a sheet of paper._

**_From: Pete_ **

_Haha funny. Why?_

**_To: Pete_ **

_Working on a song, and you're killing my vibe here._

He returned moments later with a piece of paper. I gave him a look that said 'was that so hard?' He rolled his eyes and walked away as I smirked with triumph. I began breaking apart the paragraphs, and editing the lines into clusters and making them have rhyme and rhythm and all that good stuff. After an hour of scribbling, I had finally come up with the verses and bridge.

**_To: Emma_ **

_Verse 1:_

_Lie in this empty bed_

_With this aching head_

_You left me here this morning_

_Now I can't remember why_

_I let you in again_

_To get under my skin_

_And every time you disappear_

_I remember_

_Verse 2:_

_Now there's no place like home_

_To make me feel alone_

_I see you everywhere I am_

_And I remember how you ran out to hide_

_You kept me close behind_

_Following your every move so_

_I remember_

_Bridge:_

_Why do we keep this up?_

_Why do we live like this?_

_When there is nothing left to save_

_Will you be afraid?_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Afraid by Yellowcard


	22. Chapter Twenty One

 

_I don't feel any shame, I won't apologize_

_When there ain't nowhere you can go_

_Running away from pain when you've been victimized_

_Tales from another broken home_

I swear to God I have never related to that album more in my life since my father died. For all I know I might be St. Jimmy myself. As the song finally ended, my thoughts were broken as my earbuds were flung out of my ear. I was immediately thrown across the backseat of the white van.

“Hey Aaron, learn to drive!” Connor yelled. We were currently in the back of an old white van that Connor had borrowed from his uncle. There were no seatbelts in the back, and the seats were ripped, leaving foam to spill out and springs to stick up. It wasn’t comfortable, but it held our shit and it drove.

“Sorry, I’m nervous!” He contested.

“I think I’d be concerned if you weren’t, but I’m more concerned for my safety. And my drums and I would both like to make it to our first gig in one piece, so please drive like a human being.” Emma had said from next to me. I moved off of her, but she grabbed me and pulled me into a bone-crushing hug that she knew I hated. I was currently on vocal rest and wasn’t supposed to talk or make any noises, and she was taking advantage of it. I finally gave in and let her be my human seatbelt as Aaron threw us around as he “drove” to the bar where our gig was.

Although we were all underage, we were able to get in because of our performance. Our plan was to play some covers, including  _many_  Paramore songs, as well as the one song we had written. Thank God I had quickly recovered from my fever, or else today would have been hell. However, the cold sweat I had wasn’t a side effect left over from my fever, but rather one from my anxiety. Once we got to the bar and started unloading the van, Emma had to carry everything for me because my arms were shaking so much that I couldn’t lift anything.

“Relax.” She said as she placed a hand on my shoulder. “It’s our first gig, not a single person outside of our friends know that we exist. No one will care if we suck. It’s a team effort, this whole thing isn’t sitting on your shoulders.” I nodded in response since I still wasn’t able to say anything.

“About that whole no one knows we exist thing, do you think we should change that?” Aaron chimed in, as Emma and I gave him a look that said _no duh._  “Well damn, I don’t need your sass. We’ll make a Facebook and Twitter and Instagram stuff once we finish the gig. And maybe a YouTube or something. Just focus on tonight.”

\--------------------------------

Surprisingly, none of us messed up. Well, at least not that badly. We made it through all of our songs without sounding like a train wreck, and we actually sounded pretty good. By the end of the night, a good portion of the crowd was drunk, anyway. But some of those who were actually sober took out their cell phones and videotaped us playing ‘Afraid’, and some of them even sang along during the last chorus. To think that people actually liked our music that much was enough to make me smile every time I thought about it. We stuck around afterward to talk to some of those that did. Well, Aaron and I talked to them, while Connor and Emma decided to take shots with them, despite the fact that they were underage. Connor was tipsy, but Emma was flat out drunk, and I had the job of taking her from the van to the apartment, as Aaron had to make sure Connor didn’t do anything stupid in his state.

“Jesus, Emma, just walk in a straight line!” I whisper-yelled at her and I tried to guide her to her building. It was after 2 in the morning, and I didn’t want to yell. Emma had different plans.

“But the ground is so spinney!” She giggled. Her face suddenly lost all emotion as the bent over a garbage can and emptied her stomach.

“Jesus Christ," I muttered as I pulled her hair back and rubbed small circles on her back as she continued to throw up. When she was done, I had to grab a tissue out of my bag and wipe her face. Gross.

“Skyee, can we go party?” She asked as she returned to her giddy mood. I didn’t respond, just tried to guide her to her apartment. When she refused, I had to pick her up. Despite her being tall, she was surprisingly light. I could hear Aaron laughing his ass off from inside the van, and I mentally flipped him off as I carried Emma inside the building and into the elevator.

“Woah, it’s a roller coaster!” She screamed and I put her down and put my hands over my ears.

“If you weren’t drunk right now I probably would’ve slapped the shit out of you by now.” I groaned.

“Who said I was drunk?” I ignored her comment yet again and picked her up once we reached her floor. I had no free hands to knock on her door, so I began to kick it instead. After a good minute or two of pounding his door, Brendon finally opened it.

His eyes went wide. “Oh my God what happened?” He almost cried.

“Heeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyy Brendan!” She squealed as she jumped out of my arms and almost tackled him.

“Have fun.” I winked at him and shut the door in his face. Okay, that was totally rude, but I was done with putting up with drunk Emma. Besides, he wouldn’t mind, as I could tell from the look on his face that he was totally head-over-heels for her.

\--------------------------------

**_From: Emma_ **

_Remind me why I decided to get drunk last night?_

I woke up to Emma’s text. I woke up on the floor, confused as to why she texted me that and why I was almost underneath the coffee table. The last thing I could remember was playing Afraid at the bar last night. Finally, my thoughts came back as I remembered handing Emma to Brendon, and then coming home and falling to the floor and falling asleep immediately. I looked up at the couch as I began to wonder why I didn’t sleep on the couch, and I saw an amused Pete and Patrick looking down at me.

“Rough night?” Patrick questioned.

I rolled my eyes. “Remind me to never let Emma take shots.” I rubbed my eyes and sat up, responding to her text.

**_To: Emma_ **

_I don’t know, that’s your own fault. And no I will not come over, Brendon can take care of you ;)_

**_From: Emma_ **

_Shut up, I don’t like him!_

**_To: Emma_ **

_Whatever helps you sleep at night ;)_

As I finished texting her, I looked at the time on my phone and realized it was almost four in the afternoon. I turned to face Patrick and Pete again. “How long have you guys been watching me?”

Pete smirked. “About four hours. I saw you and laughed. Patrick wanted to carry you to bed or at least put you on the couch, but I wanted to see your reaction when you woke up.”

I grabbed a pillow and chucked it at him “Jerk.”

He stood up and went to the door. “I have to leave now. But would a jerk buy you a pie?” He asked as he walked out of the door, and Patrick groaned.

“Why are you groaning about him getting a pie?” I stood up and walked over to the kitchen and made a cup of coffee.

“Read the note.” He pointed to a yellow piece of paper on top of the pie next to me. “A pie for Pye ;)”

“I don’t get it,” I said, confused, and handed the note back to him.

“Pye is our ship name. The ‘P’ from the beginning of my name, and the ‘ye’ from the end of yours. He annoys me about it all the time, I hate it so much. I mean, I’m not embarrassed by our relationship, he’s just… Pete.”

“I get it.” It clicked. “When I asked him what he did to his hair, he said he was a lemon pie. Andy and Joe laughed but I was confused.”

He facepalmed. “Great they’re in on it too. Let’s just ignore it and get some food.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” I grabbed a fork and a plate as he cut me a slice and put it on my plate.

“Hey, can you get me a plate?” He asked.

I smirked. “I don’t know, can I?” He gave me a dirty look. I had no idea what he was going to do until he turned around and grabbed a handful of flour. “Okay! I’ll get you a plate!” I squealed and handed him a plate, but he dumped the flour on my head anyways.

“Thanks. Can you get me a fork, too?”

Another smirk plastered on my face as I thought of an idea. “Sure. Let me just get myself a soda first.” I opened the fridge but instead of grabbing a soda, I grabbed an egg.

“Uh, do you need any help finding the soda?” He asked, confused. I turned around with the egg behind my back and hugged him with one arm. Then, I took off his fedora and smashed the egg onto his head.

He immediately stepped back. “What the hell?” He said, blinking rapidly. “Oh, I am so gonna get you back.” I giggled and grabbed another egg from the fridge.

“Stay away.” I playfully warned, holding the egg as if I were about to throw it. He grabbed the egg from my hand and smashed it on my head. “Oh, it’s on.”

He ran behind the counter and ducked as I threw another egg and it broke on the wall behind him. He popped back up and dumped the entire bag of flour on my head as I screamed. I went to grab another egg, but there wasn’t any left, so I grabbed a can of whipped cream. I turned around and sprayed some on his face in a quick motion.

His eyes suddenly darted to the pie and my eyes grew wide. “No-“ I started, but before I could finish, he smashed it in my face.

I had meant to yell something along the lines of “I hate you, you jerk!” But it came out as “I hste rgs, sdfs ndrek!”

“I love you too.” He said, wiping the pie off of my eyes, nose, and mouth. “I’m sorry I got pie all over your face.”

“I’m sorry I got whipped cream all over your face.” I apologized back.

“So, do you want some dessert?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Jesus of Suburbia - Green Day
> 
> \--
> 
> You stooped
> 
> No I’m not.
> 
> What’s nine plus ten?
> 
> Twenty – one
> 
> You stooped.


	23. Chapter Twenty Two

“You should sing me a song,” Patrick stated out of the blue. We were just lying on the couch in each other’s arms, having just watched the Nightmare Before Christmas, and I couldn’t be happier. Before I met Patrick, I never understood why people could think about or look at that one person and smile for no reason. But now I completely understand.

“What?” I said, sitting up.

“I’ve only heard you sing in the subway. I found your lyrics for ‘Afraid’, and they’re really good. Can you sing me another song you wrote?” He asked.

“Well,” I began. “I only wrote the verses and bridge of Afraid. Aaron wrote the rest. And the rest of us worked on this song called Fighting, I could sing that if you want-“

“Yes!” He gasped, as I giggled at his enthusiasm, and left to grab my guitar.

“We all kind of wrote this for separate reasons.” I returned from my room with my guitar in hand. “Emma said it was because of someone who she really likes, who I will not name-“

“Is it Brendon?” He interrupted. “Don’t answer that because I know they like each other. Continue.”

“You said it, not me. Aaron and Connor kind of wrote it as an apology to the people they grew apart from in high school because of their relationship. And I wrote it about everything that’s happened in the last two years.” I sat down and began to strum the guitar.

 _Said I'd move on and I'd leave it alone_ __  
But before I walk out there is something that I need you to know  
I got lost in a blink of an eye  
And I can never get back; no, I never got back  
You were not there when I wanted to say   
That you were everything right and it wasn't even me to change  
Now I got to go it alone, but I will never give up; no, I'll never give up  
  
What am I fighting for?  
There must be something more  
For all these words I sing  
Do you feel anything?  
  
Said, I'm okay, but I know how to lie  
You were all that I had; you were delicate and hard to find  
Got lost in the back of my mind  
And I can never get back; no, I never got back  
You were not there when I needed to say  
I hit the bottom so fast that my head was spinning around for days  
Now I got to go there alone, but I will never give up  
No, I will never give up  
  
What am I fighting for?  
There must be something more  
For all these words I sing  
Do you feel anything?  
What am I fighting for?  
What am I fighting for?  
  
Never give up on this  
Never give up on this  
Never give up on this  
Never give up on this  
  
Said I'm okay, but I know how to lie  
I will never give up; no, I'll never give up  
  
What am I fighting for?  
There must be something more  
For all these words I sing  
Do you feel anything?  
  
What am I fighting for?

_No, I'm never going to give up, give up_ _  
What am I fighting for?_

_No, I'm never going to give up, give up_ __  
Said that I'd fight for the one that I found  
I'm going to stay here while I wait for you to come around  
I'll fight; you're apart of me now  
And I will never give up, no, I'll never give up

“Damn.” He said. I looked up and Pete had ventured out of his room, even though I never noticed that he had come home.

“It sounds better with the whole band and Aaron’s backups,” I admitted.

“Well, then that is one hella fine band if it can get better than that.” Pete butted in. We talked about the band for a bit, before calling it a night at almost 2 in the morning.

\-----------------------------

“Skyeeee,” Rose whined as she pulled on my pant leg as I was making breakfast, despite it being 3 in the afternoon. The band was coming over in half an hour, and I just wanted Ryan and Rose to play in their room, as Pete and Patrick had a Fall Out Boy meeting about their new album.

“Yes, sweetie?” I asked, turning the burner off and putting my eggs on a plate.

“Ryan won’t play with me. He’s being a meanie.” She looked down and bit her lip.

I crouched down so I was at her level. “And why is that?”

“He stole the clothes of the Barbie doll that Uncle Joe got me and put them on his superman dolls.”

“They’re not dolls!” He stormed into the kitchen. “And you can take your clothes. They’re shitty-“

“Alexander Ryan Black!” I yelled, as his face went blank at the mention of his full name. “What did you just say?”

Just in his luck, there was a knock at the door. “I will be right back. If you move, your punishment will be worse. You don’t move either, Rose. Do you understand?” They nodded and I went to open the door.

“Hey, Skye!” Emma was at the door. “Connor and Aaron are here, they’re just bringing some stuff up the elevator. Probably making out in there too.” I laughed.

“Come in, make yourself at home. I’m just yelling at my brother and sister. Text them that the door’s open, they don’t need to knock.” I returned to the kitchen, where Ryan had tears on his face.

“I’m sorry, Uncle Pete taught me that word! I didn’t know it was bad!” He cried.

“That doesn’t change the fact that you said it. And, you also took your sister’s things without asking. Neither of those are nice things, are they?” He shook his head no. “Give me your action figures.”

“But-“

“No buts! Now, apologize to your sister, and never use that kind of language again!” I folded my arms.

“I’m sorry, Rose. Here are your clothes.” He handed her them.

“No, you’re not. You’re just saying that because she told you to.”

“Rose!” I swear, my siblings were a handful. “He was being nice. Now, Rose, you are going to timeout in my room, and you are giving me your dolls. Ryan, you are going to your room, and you are giving me your action figures.”

“I didn’t-“

“Rose, you will do what I say. Do you want a longer timeout?” She shook her head. “Great, bring me your dolls, and Ryan, bring me your action figures. You are not to come out of the room I told you to go in until I get you, okay? You two have to learn to get along.” They ran off, as I collected their toys. I collapsed on the couch as Connor and Aaron were setting up the drums.

“You three are so lucky to not have any siblings.” I sighed. “Ever since my father died, I ended up taking all responsibility for them-“

“What about your mom?” Connor asked. I forgot that the only thing they know about my past was that my father passed over two years ago.

“Well, uh, when my father had cancer, my mom started drinking. And a couple months after he died, she, well, she turned abusive. We ran away a month or two ago and the cops are looking for her, but she’s supposedly in Chicago.” They were silent after that, as they didn’t know what to say.

“Well, let’s start writing.”

\---------------------------------------------------

**_*Patrick’s POV*_ **

“Hey man, you wanna grab a beer?” Pete asked as we stepped out of the meeting that lasted forever. I didn’t know what time it was, but I did know that the sun had started to go down.

“Uh, no, I gotta get Skye something,” I replied.

He nodded his head. “Sure thing. Just be home soon, she’ll start to worry. I’ll cover for you if you want it to be a surprise.”

“Thank,s man.” I patted his back as we turned our separate ways. I started walking to Apollo’s, where Skye had first worked. When I came into her work that one day, I had noticed she was eyeing one very particular bass in the back. It was extremely expensive, and even now after getting a job and making some money with her band, she still couldn’t afford it.

I stepped in the store and immediately made my way to the back, to try to find the one she wanted. It was a Fender, just like Pete’s, and had a navy blue bass with a white pickguard. The reason why she loved it so much was that the head was white, and the neck faded from white to navy.

“Finding everything okay?” I turned around to see someone wearing a store manager tag, and I recognized him as Skye’s old boss, Mr. Spark-something. He shoved his hands into his pockets as he waited for my answer.

“Yea, I just was looking into buying this bass.” I turned around to face it. He took a step closer to me.

“It is a very nice instrument.” I felt something cold and metal press into my hip through his jacket pocket.

A gun.

“You are going to act like you know me and nothing’s wrong and do everything I say, okay? Mess up and I’ll blow your insides out.” He says between his teeth.

“Uh, yea, it’s a great bass.” I swallowed hard.

“It is indeed. We received a new shipment of even nicer ones, in the back, would you like to take a look?” He pressed the gun harder into my side, as I broke into a cold sweat.

“I-l would love t-to.” I faked a friendly smile as he pushed me into the back of the store, and locked the door behind us.

Still holding the gun to my side, he shoved me into a chair. “Don’t try to make a run for it. I can turn and shoot at any time. Elisa, can you please hand me the rope?”

My eyes went wide at the mention of her name, and even wider as I saw her appear from the next room over and lock the door behind her. I started sweating even more. “Hello, Patrick.” She greeted with a sick smile. I didn’t respond out of fear. “A little shy are we?” She continued to grin as the man took the rope and tied me down to the chair.

“Thank you, Albert. Your work here is done.” She blew him a kiss and I think I threw up a little in my mouth. He was in his 40's or 50's. 

“Anytime Elisa.” He winked and left, and Elisa locked the door once again.

“What are you doing?” I asked. I didn’t yell, as Albert could probably hear us through one of the walls. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything  _from_ you,” She straddled my waist and sat on my lap. “I want  _you._ ” Her overly-red lips whispered into my ear.

Through the rope, I tried to push her off. She grabbed a gun from the side table and pushed it into the small of my back. Jesus Christ, how many guns were in this store?

“Now, now, don’t try anything.” She whispered in an attempt to be seductive. She grinded her hips into mine. “You know you want it.”

Her touch alone was enough to give me shivers of disgust. “I have a girlfriend.” I spat.

“Not for long.” She kissed behind my ear and began leaving a trail of kisses to my collarbone. I felt dirty and disgusting.

“What’s that supposed to-“ She interrupted me by pushing her lips onto mine. She immediately tried to pry my lips open with her tongue out of pure lust. When I refused, she pushed the gun harder into my back, forcing me to gasp, and her shoving her tongue into my mouth. When I still didn’t respond, she pulled away.

“You  _will_ cooperate.” She put her manicured finger on my chest and let it trail down to my waist as she continued to talk. “And you  _will_ be mine. You  _will_ leave that Skye bitch, or else.”

“Or else what?” I made sure to literally spit in her face this time. She just smiled.

“Or else I’ll have to kill her.”

**_*Skye’s POV*_ **

“Hey Pete, where did you say Patrick was going again?” I asked him again. It had been five hours since Pete had come home, and Patrick was nowhere to be seen.

“I forget, but he should be home by now. Did you try calling him?” He suggested.

“I did, several times actually, he didn’t pick up.” I pulled out my phone to call him again and saw I had several texts from a number I didn’t recognize.

_Patrick’s mine, you skank._

_He doesn’t love you. He never did. I mean, who could? Your life’s a mess. Your mother is after you._

_He doesn’t want you. No one does. You’re just bringing them pain._

_You’re putting them in danger. They want to get rid of you._

_You don’t you help them out yourself?_

_Leave them or I’ll make you._

Pete looked over my shoulder and grabbed my phone out of my hands.

“Holy shit, that’s Elisa’s number.” Pete gasped.

“Who’s Elisa?” My voice shook. But before he could answer, there was a new text, from Patrick.

_I’m sorry._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Fighting - Yellowcard


	24. Chapter Twenty Three

_I’m sorry._

For what? Why would he be sorry?

A knock at the door made me snap my head up from the texts. Pete ran off with my phone and opened the door to reveal Patrick.

But this wasn’t the Patrick that I knew. He had tear stained cheeks, was missing his fedora, and his hair was sticking every which way. His face was covered with lipstick marks and his arms were covered in some sort of marks. Were those rope burns?

“I’m sorry.” He breathed, as his entire body shook with every breath he took. I practically sprinted to him and wrapped in the biggest hug I’ve ever given everyone. I felt that if I let go, that I would lose him. Forever.

“Shhh. It’s okay.” I tried to comfort him.

“No it’s not-“ He began but his cries overpowered his words. His knees grew weak and he collapsed even further into my arms, as his sobs overtook his body. Pete gave me a look that said ‘I’ll leave you two alone’, as he shut the front door and went down the hall. I carried Patrick over to the couch and allowed him to sit down next to me, his face never leaving his hands. His body rattled with every sob, every cry, every breath.

“Patrick,” I whispered, trying to get him to look up as I rubbed small circles on his back. I lightly kissed his cheek and hugged him, but he flinched away.

“I don’t deserve you.” He cried and finally looked up. My heart broke as I saw the state he was in.

“Pa-“

“No.” He cut me off. ”I’m awful. I’m disgusting. You deserve so much better than me. Everyone does.”

I pressed my hands to my temples. “What the hell are you talking about?” And then he told me what had happened not even an hour earlier.

“I’m sorry. I cheated on you. I’ll just go now-“

I grabbed his arm and he winced. I let go, remembering the rope burns on his arms. “Patrick, you didn’t cheat on me. You were held at gunpoint and tied down, as she tried to seduce you against your will. You did absolutely nothing wrong. It’s my fault that my stupid former boss was in on any of this, If I just went to a different subway station I wouldn’t have met you or have applied for that job and then he wouldn’t know you and then you wouldn’t have to deal with my problems about my mother. You took me in thinking you were helping me and you got thrown into this whole mess and you’re potentially in danger because of me and I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s my fault. Pete told me about the texts you just got, they’re from Elisa. And-“

“Will the two of you just shut the hell up with your low self-esteem?” Pete barged into the room. “None of this was either of your faults, stop blaming yourself! You’re obviously freaked out from everything that happened, you just need a break. And I’m sorry Skye, but you have to go to Aaron’s. He got you guys a last minute gig.”

I turned to Patrick. “I’ll be back as soon as possible. Text me if anything comes up.”

\-------------------------------------

“You guys have been such a great audience tonight!” Aaron said into the microphone. Unlike our last gig, this one wasn’t at a bar. It was at some family get together just outside of the city. It was around ten and we were finishing up, and the crowd had actually given us a little bit of attention, opposed to the drunken crowd we played to the other night.

“We have just one more song. It’s a slower one, a bit of a duet. It’s one we wrote, and we need a little bit of help from the audience. Can anyone play the violin, and can sight read music?” The family all pointed to a young girl, around 14. She had been sitting in the back and was reluctant to come on stage. The family was cheering her on, but she kept shaking her head. I jumped off the stage and went over to her.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come on stage?” I asked.

“But what if I mess up? Everyone expects me to be perfect, and if I mess up, they’re not going to let me forget it.” She spoke with her head to the ground.

“Who cares if you mess up?” I asked. “No one besides the four of us knows this song. If you mess up, they won’t notice. It’s just simple chords. You’ll do great. I promise.” She looked up at me.

“Alright, I guess.” I smiled at her response, and she smiled back.

“Awesome. What’s your name?” I started walking back to the stage with her.

“Jennifer, but I don’t like it. I go by my middle name, Skye. It’s unique, I like it. My family really doesn’t but I do.”

“Can I tell you something?” She nodded. “My name’s Skye too. With an e at the end, right?” She nodded again. I jumped back onto the stage and helped her up.

“Alright everyone, let’s welcome Skye to the stage! This song is called How I Go.”

_I could tell you the wildest of tales_

_My friend the giant and traveling sales_

_Tell you all the times that I failed_

_The years all behind me_

_The stories exhaled._

_And I'm drying out_

_Crying out_

_This isn't how I go_

 

_I could tell you of a man not so tall_

_Who said life's a circus and so we are small_

_Tell you of a girl that I saw_

_I froze in the moment and she changed it all_

 

_And I'm drying out_

_Crying out_

_This isn't how I go_

_Hurry now_

_Lay me down_

_And let these waters flow_

_Flow..._

 

_Son I am not everything you thought that I would be_

_But every story I have told is part of me_

 

_And you keep the air in my lungs_

_Floating along as a melody comes_

_And my heart beats like timpani drums_

_Keeping the time while a symphony strums_

_And I'm drying out_

_Crying out_

_This isn't how I go_

_Hurry now_

_Lay me down_

_And let these waters flow..._

_Flow...._

_Let it flow_

_Let it flow_

 

_Son I am not everything you thought that I would be_

_But every story I have told is part of me_

_Son I leave you now but you have so much more to do_

_And every story I have told is part of you_

\-----------------------------------------

“Skye, someone is at the door!” Ryan and Rose came racing into my room, making me take off my headphones. I know, I was doing a great job of looking over my siblings. Pete had taken Patrick out to a Cubs game to get his mind off things, and I was “watching” my siblings. By watching, I meant letting them do whatever they want while I had my headphones on.

I got up from my bed, and they followed. It was probably Emma, as she liked to come over without notice. But normally she would use the spare key hidden under the mat (great hiding spot) or she would text me. So who was at the door and what did they want?

My mother.

As soon as I saw her face I slammed the door shut, but she propped the door open with her foot. She didn’t reek of alcohol, but that didn’t mean she had good intentions.

“Now, Skye, that’s no way to welcome your mother. Why don’t you let her in?” She called from the other side of the door. I tried closing the door completely, but she slammed into it, sending me flying to the floor.

“You are not my mother.” I spat.

She laughed and closed the door behind her. “I carried you in my stomach for 9 months. You should be grateful and show some respect.”

I scrambled to my feet. “Respect? Why don’t you show me some respect? I could have let you starve, but I took care of you when you were drunk off of your ass.”

“Ah, but you didn’t. Why? Oh yeah, you were terrified of me.” I noticed Ryan and Rose had not left. I took a step in front of them.

“Stay away from us.” I nearly growled.

“But I am your mother.” She cooed, taking a step forward, as I took one back.

I turned to my siblings and mouthed the word “run”. They took off down the hall, and I heard a door close and lock.

“Thank you, dear. Now I know which one of you to kill first.” She drew a switchblade from her pocket.

“What do you want?” I cried. “What did I ever do to you?”

“You took him away from me!” She screamed. “You’re the reason he’s dead!” She took another step closer and swung her fist, but I sidestepped it.

“What are you talking about? He died of cancer. It’s not my fault he’s gone!” I retorted.

“But look at you, you’re fine without him! You didn’t give a damn about him, meanwhile I-“

“Locked yourself away and didn’t talk to anyone!” I finished before she could say anything else. “He was  _my father_! I loved him too! I loved you, but you locked yourself away! Do you know how much it hurt the first time I found you passed out drunk? I didn’t lose only my father that Christmas, I lost you too! I loved you, but then you turned into this monster!” I was almost sobbing by now.

“What did you call me?” She grabbed my arm. Now I smelled the alcohol. It was distant, but still there. She wasn’t drunk, but definitely a bit tipsy.

“You heard me!” I screamed. “You’re destroying yourself too!”

She grabbed me and pushed me against the wall, holding the knife to my throat. “You listen to me. I’m not the monster,  _you_  are! You are going to do what I say, or you will never live to see another day.”

“You wouldn’t really kill me.” I snarled. “You don’t have the guts to do it.”

“Watch me.” She pushed the knife harder against my neck, breaking the skin.

“If you really need me to do what you say right now.” I gasped. “You wouldn’t kill me. You can’t live on your own.” She pushed me harder against the wall, and I struggled to breathe. “You...need…me.”

“Shut up you little bitch!” She released me and I immediately fell to the floor. My hands went up to my neck as I gasped for breath. “Look at you, you’re pathetic. Eighteen years old and you’re scared of your own mother?” She kicked me in the ribs. “Pathetic.”

“First of all.” I choked, standing back up. “I am nineteen, not eighteen.” I took a step closer, and removed my bloody hand from my neck, and pushed it against hers, holding her to the wall as she had done to me before. “And second, for the last time.” I kneed her in the stomach. “You are  _not_  my mother!” I screeched, dropping her to the ground. I began to kick her in the stomach, as she had done to me for so long.

One kick for leaving me to fend for myself.

A second for hitting me that first time.

A third for even laying a hand on my siblings.

A fourth for the abuse.

A fifth, a sixth, a seventh.

I couldn’t stop. After all that she had put me through, I was getting m revenge. I was in control now. Watching her curled up on the ground, completely defenseless, made me feel… powerful.

“Stop.” She begged. “Please.” She coughed, beginning to spit out blood. But I didn’t. It was finally my way of getting back at her.

“How does it feel?” I screamed as the tears flooded down my face. “To be completely defenseless? To not be able to do anything? To be hurt by the person you had loved for sixteen years?”

“I’m sorry.” She chocked.

“You don’t mean it!” I picked her up by the shirt and led her to the window. “You are going to leave me, and my siblings, and everyone I know alone!”

I opened the window and dumped her on to the fire escape. “I am going to watch you climb down that ladder and run as far away as you can. And if you don’t, you will regret it for the rest of your short life.”

She frantically nodded as did as I said. I closed the window and turned away, as I heard a key in the lock of the front door. It opened to reveal Pete and Patrick, who took one look at me and dropped their jaws. I looked down at my bloody hands and felt a sudden emptiness.

_What had I just done?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: How I Go - Yellowcard


	25. Chapter Twenty Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is by far the longest chapter, enjoy!

 

The one thing we can never get enough of is love.

And the one thing we never give enough of is love.

**_*6 hours earlier*_ **

_What had I just done?_

"Holy shit, are you okay?" Patrick threw the box he was holding into Pete's arms and dashed to my side. I didn't say anything as I dropped to my knees. Patrick put his hands on my shoulders. "Skye, are you okay?" I continued to sink to the ground.

He turned around "Pete! Do something!" He screamed frantically. He kneeled down and looked me in the eyes with his own tear-filled ones. "Skye, please say something. Are you okay?" He whispered.

"M-my mom." Was all I could manage to get out.

"What about her?" He frantically questioned me. "What did she do to you?"

"S-she was h-here, and s-she-" I breathed. I didn't know what to say.

Pete returned with gauze and some medical anti-biotic wipes or something. "You're not cut deep enough to go to the hospital. Just talk to Patrick as I clean you up. If it hurts, just squeeze my hand."

"I-I was watching my siblings, and they said s-someone was at the d-door. I opened it and s-she was standing t-there. I slammed the d-door but her foot was there." I said in one breath, as I began to slowly rock back and forth.

"Shh, it's okay, you're okay, she's gone. Calm down. What did she do?" Patrick moved out of Pete's way so he was sitting beside me, with an arm draped over my shoulder.

"S-she was b-blaming me for the d-death of my D-dad. We were screaming and she p-pinned me to the wall and held a knife to my throat." I had tears beginning to form in my eyes. "I'm a monster," I whispered.

"You're not a-"

"Yes I am!" I interrupted. "I-I'm not done! She let go of me and I-I pushed her against the w-wall. I-I let her fall and I just started k-kicking her. I couldn't s-stop. I thought of all the times s-she did it to me and it felt.... G-good. I'm a terrible person. I practically t-threw her out of the window. I'm awful-"

"Hey". Patrick interrupted and I looked up at him through my tears. "I'm proud of you. You stood up to her. You did it out of self-defense. I hope you scared her off." He leaned over and pressed his lips to my forehead. "You're so strong. I'm proud of you."

I managed a small smile as he pulled me in closer. "Thanks." I winced as Pete cleaned up my neck. He quickly wrapped it in gauze and started cleaning my hands.

"You're all good now. I'll go talk to your siblings, if they heard anything, they're probably terrified." Pete stood up.

"Just don't teach Ryan any more curse words," I called after him.

He turned on his feet. "That was one time!" He whined before running off.

"Typical Pete, huh?" Patrick said.

I turned so I was facing him, and he put his other arm around me and pulled me onto his lap. I burying my face in his chest as I let out a breathy laugh. "Yeah, he's a great influence." He whipped my tears and kissed my forehead once more.

We sat like that forever, with him constantly kissing my forehead and telling me how proud of me he was. If I could go back and freeze time, I would go back to that moment. I could hear his heartbeat skip a beat every now and then, and feel his warmth radiating off of him. I never wanted to move. I lifted up my head to plant a soft kiss on his lips. I broke the silence that had surrounded us for so long.

"I love you." I breathed and looked into his eyes. "I know it's soon, but I mean it. And with everything going on, I need to say it. I need you to know."

He just looked at me, and I feared that he was going to think I was some creepy clingy girlfriend. "Say it again."

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Say it again."

"I love you, Patrick." His lips curved into a small smile. Not a fake smile that he wore oh-so-often when the world wanted so much from him. It was one of those rare smiled that reached his eyes.

He pulled me closer and kissed my forehead.

"I love you too."

**_*Patrick's POV*_ **

She loves me.

Not even an hour ago, the girl of my dreams told me that she loves me.

I was the happiest I could be. I walked down the streets of downtown Chicago, smiling to myself like an idiot. I decided to get Skye a present, but I didn't know what to get her just yet. I had ordered her bass and picked it up earlier that day. It was sitting in a box under my bed, and I was planning on giving it to her tonight, but I wanted to give her something else. Not something cheesy like flowers or chocolate. The chocolate would be gone, and the flowers would die. I wanted to give her something that showed my love for her, and that love would never die. But by the end of the night, I was still stumped. 

I took the long way home, weaving in and out of the streets of the sleepless city. I soon found myself wandering by the alley where I found Skye lying on the concrete ground, covered in blood. It was the night I realized that I was in love with her, but it was one of the worst nights of my life.

"Hey, aren't you Patrick Stump?" I turned around to see a middle-aged woman facing me. Most of our fanbase was a bit younger, but hey, a fan is a fan.

"Yes, I am." I straightened up, trying to look professional. Something about her was...off.  _Is that trace amounts of... blood on her neck?_

She grabbed me by the collar, and shoved me into the wall, dragging me across it and into the alley.

"I don't think we've met." She whispered into my face. Her breath reeked of alcohol and I winced. "I'm Vanessa,  _Vanessa Black._ " My stomach dropped and my eyes bulged out of my head.

"You monster." I spat.  _This_  was the woman who caused Skye so much pain. This was the woman who made her fear for her life. This was the woman who led her to wake up screaming in the middle of the night. This was the woman who nearly killed Skye. This was the woman who was my worst enemy.

"I see you've heard of me." She trailed her finger down the side of my face, similar to the way Elisa had. "Perhaps you've met my pathetic excuse for a daughter?"

"Excuse you?" I snarled and pushed her off me. I placed my foot on her chest so she couldn't move. " _You're_  the pathetic one. You don't deserve to be called her mother."

She only smiled, and I suddenly felt sick. "You've just made a big mistake,  _son._ "

She grabbed my leg and flipped me onto my side. The wind got knocked out of me, and suddenly I couldn't breathe. Every breath I took was a gasp for air. How pathetic I was, that I couldn't fend for myself. She came over and began to kick me in the ribs, worsening the problem. The breaths I managed to take were becoming quicker and heavier. The pain was unbearable. It felt like being smothered by a thousand pillows on fire while being stabbed in the stomach with multiple daggers.

"Please." I chocked, tasting blood and tears when I opened my mouth. My face must have scraped against the pavement when I fell. "S-stop."

She only laughed. "That's what I said to your girlfriend. But she didn't and now that I can't kill  _her..._ " Her face twisted into a sick smile. I felt a small wave of relief when she stopped. But the relief went away when she kneeled down to face me. "I'll have to settle for killing  _you._ "

She must have seen the look of worry spread over my face. "Oh, don't worry. You won't go immediately. I'll make sure you suffer immensely." She cackled.

"You're sick." I managed to say. I gathered up the small strength I had and spit in her face.

Her smile fell. "You want to die quickly?" She asked. "I can manage that."

And that's when she pulled the gun out of her pocket and pointed it at my head.

She stood up and walked away. "You see, I just can't get any blood on me. Or get any of my gunpowder on you. You know, stuff that will link me to murder." She dragged out the last word and I closed my eyes, not wanting her to be the last thing I saw.

They say that when you're about to die, your life passes before your eyes.

But that's not true. You only see the things from your life that you love.

And before my mind turned black, all I could think of was Skye.

**_*Skye's POV*_ **

"They seem to be okay. They didn't hear much. They locked themselves in the bathroom and turned on the sink and the shower so they couldn't hear anything." Pete had emerged from the bathroom where Ryan and Rose were hiding and plopped down next to me on the couch. "They're smart kids, you know. They're only three but they're so mature."

I sat down my glass of soda in front of me. "Yeah, they didn't have much time to be kids." I sighed. "That's one of the two things I wish I did I better job of. I wish I had spoken out sooner. Whether it had been running away, standing up to her, going to the police, whatever, I wish I did it sooner. Then I wouldn't be in this mess. And I wish I had protected them more. They went through things no three-year-old should ever go through."

"They turned out alright though," Pete commented. "I mean, at least you're there for them. I haven't seen my five-year-old son in months. And I have another child on the way, and I would do anything to see my girlfriend."

"I'm sorry." I really didn't know what to say. He pulled his wallet out from his back pocket and opened it.

"That's my son, Bronx, on the left. And that's my girlfriend, Meagan, on the right." He pointed to a picture of each of them.

"Awe, Bronx is so cute! And wow, even Meagan is taller than you? Is Bronx taller than you, too?" I laughed.

"Shut up." He whined as his phone rang. "Huh, I don't recognize it. It's probably work." He stood up to take the call as I went into my room to get Ryan and Rose.

"Skye, are you okay?" Ryan tugged at my sleeve. I pulled the two of them into a hug.

"I'm okay, I promise," I whispered.

Pete ran into the room, fear in his eyes. "Patrick's in the hospital."

I immediately let go of my siblings and stood up. My heart sank. "You don't think it's-"

"I hope not. Go grab a taxi. I'll drop your siblings at Aaron and Connor's and contact Joe and Andy and Brendon. Just go!" He yelled and I dashed out of the door.

Everything was too slow. The elevator was too slow. The taxi driver was too slow. The traffic was too slow. Everything seemed to be preventing me to see Patrick. When I finally made it to the hospital, I threw the money at the driver, yelling at him to keep the change. Before the taxi had even stopped, I jumped out of the car and slammed the door behind me. I sprinted to the receptionist's desk as fast as I possibly could.

"I'm here to see Patrick Stump," I said in one breath to the receptionist before she had even looked up.

"And you might you be?" She questioned, looking up.

"Skye Black. I'm his girlfriend. I need to see-"

"I'm sorry, but Mr. Stump isn't taking any visitors right now." She interrupted. "He's currently in surgery. You can sit in the waiting room, and refreshments are available in the cafeteria." She responded in a monotone voice, returning to her work.

 _Surgery_.

What had happened to make him have to go through surgery?  _What had my mother done to him?_

I didn't sit down, I couldn't I paced up and down the hallway between the waiting room and the cafeteria. What if his surgery didn't go well? What if he is badly injured? What if he can't talk, or walk, or speak? What if he loses his memory? What if he's...dead?

"Skye!" My name being screamed broke me out of my trance of worrying about all of the things that could go wrong. I turned on my heels and wiped the tears from my face so my vision was no longer blurry. Joe, Andy, Pete, and Brendon had just arrived. I immediately ran to Pete and collapsed into his arms, falling to the ground, dragging him with me. I didn't say anything, I just cried.

And cried.

And cried.

\---------------------

“Mr. Stump?” A receptionist walked into the waiting room. The five of us jumped from our seats. “He’s out of surgery and is allowing visitors. He’s in room 301.”  As soon as I heard the room number, I sprinted out of the waiting room, the others close behind. I reached the elevator and repeatedly hit the up button, in hopes that it would magically come faster because I hit it more than once.

“Skye, relax,” Pete said. I turned around to face him and took a deep breath. I wiped my eyes, not even realizing that I had been crying again. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. I didn’t know what to say. The only thing that I knew was that I needed to see Patrick. He was alive, and that was enough to keep me from falling to the floor.

The elevator opened and we all crammed in. Joe hit the button for the third floor, but the elevator would not move fast enough. When the doors finally opened, 301 was directly in front of us. The door was open, and we all walked in. The bed was separated from the rest of the room by a curtain, and there was a nurse standing in the room.

“Is he okay?” The five of us said almost in unison.

“Well,” The nurse began. “The surgery went well. He was shot in the head, and the bullet barely missed his brain. We were able to remove the bullet, and there was no brain damage. He also broke three ribs, and nearly punctured his lung. The bad news is that in order to speed up his recovery, we had to put him in a medically induced coma.” And then she walked out, like this was stuff she said every day.

I involuntarily let out a whimper and fell into Pete’s arms.  _A coma?_ We took a step closer to the bed and Joe pulled back the curtain, and I let out another involuntary whimper.

I couldn’t look, yet I couldn’t help but stare. A blood-soaked gauze was pressed to his forehead. His glasses were gone, and his hair was stained with blood. There were scratches, scrapes, and bruises all over his face. There was an IV in his arm, which was in no better state than his face. I couldn’t see anything else, and I was glad I couldn’t. This wasn’t Patrick. It couldn’t be. There had to have been some mistake. Right now, he was at home, watching baseball highlights, waiting for us to come home.

But this was him. There was no mistaking his dirty blonde hair, and his childish face. But now, I could never hear his laugh, or his voice, or see his blue eyes or feel his body pressed to mine or his lips on mine.

“I need a minute.” I croaked and walked into the hallway. I leaned against the wall and let my back slide down it as I broke into a sob. It’s crazy to think that just 6 hours earlier, I had told him that I loved him. I had felt his lips against mine, but I feared that I would never be able to again.

The one thing we can never get enough of is love.

And the one thing we never give enough of is love.

I walked back into the room and sat in an empty chair next to his bed. I grabbed his hand and didn’t say a word. I was no longer hysterically crying, but the tears continued to flow freely down my face as I let out a sob every now and then. Brendon was nervously pacing on the other side of the room, on the phone with someone who I couldn’t tell. Pete was sitting on the ground, hugging his knees, sobbing into them. Joe was sitting in a chair on the opposite side of the bed. He had his elbows on his knees,  his head in his hands. Andy was next to him, staring blankly at the wall. I couldn’t imagine what they were going through. Brendon was one of his best friends and had known him for years. The rest of them have been his bandmate for god knows how long, and I couldn’t imagine what they were feeling right now.

We sat in silence, with the only noise being the occasional sob and the steady beating of the heart monitor.

And then the monitor went flat.

“No!” I screamed and shot up from my chair.  _No, no this can’t be happening. He can’t be dead._

Everything else was a blur. The only thing I could remember was someone calling for a nurse, and I was crying and screaming. Someone, I think it was Andy, had to drag me out of the room because I refused to leave Patrick’s side. I was taken into a hallway, and I caught one last glimpse of Patrick’s face before nurses and doctors swarmed the room, shutting the door behind them.

I was standing blank-faced in the middle of the hallway, processing what had just happened.

And suddenly, all the pain hit me at once.

The pain I felt now was the same I had felt the night when my father passed. The memories came flooding back, hitting me like a wave.

\-----------------

_I walked into the office, seeing my mom crying, with my siblings beside them. They looked confused. When she saw me, she stood up and hugged me._

_“Mom, what’s going on?” I asked._

_“Y-your father has cancer.”_

\-----------------

 _She screamed. She smashed her bottle on the door, sending glass shards everywhere. I heard crying from upstairs._ Goddamit guys, shut up, or she’ll kill us all!  _She turned to face me. I could picture her like she was in one of those Saturday cartoon shows, with her nostrils flaring, veins sticking out, and smoke coming out of her ears. She brought back her bottle and slashed me across the arm._

_“How the hell were you going to feed me?” She hit me again with the bottle, this time in my nose. I stumbled backward as my hand flew up. I pulled it back to reveal blood. Not just from my nose, but my arm was bleeding non-stop. I heard her open the pantry._

_“Everything in here is expired! What are you trying to do, kill me?” She laughed. “You can’t just get rid of me yet, poor Skye darling.” She punched me in the gut as I doubled over. She kicked me repeatedly in the shins until I fell to the ground, where she kicked me several times in the ribs. And just for good measure, she dropped her beer bottle on my head, and I finally passed out._

\-----------------

_“Patrick, please go to your room. Please.” Pete begged._

_“Why should I?” Patrick yelled. “Maybe I should just go to the roof, and jump, right? Because nobody wants Patrick fucking Stump, everyone would be better off without him!”_

_“P-Patrick, t-that’s not true.” I sobbed, looking him in the eyes._

_“Shut up, you bitch!” Before I realized what he was doing, he threw the empty glass bottles at us. H had missed, hitting the walls on either side of us. I was screaming, and he fell to the ground._

\-----------------

I felt my heart being torn out of my chest. Everything I had come to love had been taken away from me. I hadn’t noticed when my knees had collapsed, and I fell to the floor, my head slamming into the ground. But the pain that my head felt was nothing compared to my heart. There was a dull throbbing in my head, but my heart felt as though it was being stabbed. All I wanted to do was to curl into a ball and die.

How was it that it seemed like it was just yesterday when I thought I reached the end, when all hope was lost, things began looking up? The light found its way back into my eyes, my voice was louder than before. The pulse I lacked had found its way back, my heart was pieced back together.

But the leaves must fall, the sun must set. Just as Rome turns to ruins, everything must end.

_And if it ends today, well I'll still say that you shine brighter than anyone._

But I suppose a fire that burns that bright is not meant to last.

\-----------------

“Skye, Skye, wake up!” Pete was violently shaking my body. I hadn’t even realized that I had fallen asleep. Was this all just some terrible, horrible nightmare?

“Is P-Patrick…” I stammered before trailing off.

“The nurses were able to get his pulse back. They took him off of the medicine that put him in a coma, and he should wake up anytime in the next few days.” He said, a slight hint of enthusiasm in his voice.

I sighed out of relief and sat up. I pressed my back against the wall and let my head fall back. I closed my eyes, not able to do anything else.

“Well, are you going to get up?” He asked.

“I-I can’t f-feel my legs.” I stammered. “I c-can’t get u-up.” He sighed and picked me up. I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my head in his shoulder. All that I needed was a hug right now. From Patrick.  As soon as Pete let me down in a chair next to him, I fell asleep. That’s all I wanted to do right now. By sleeping, I wouldn’t feel anything. I wouldn’t have to face what was happening around me. And more importantly, time would go by faster. The more I slept, the more time would go by, and the sooner it would be until I saw Patrick. Until I saw his blue eyes. Until I heard his mesmerizing voice. Until I could feel his lips on mine. Until I could feel his love.

\-----------------

“Damn, Skye, how much do you sleep?” Pete said once I had finally woken up. It was dark outside, but other than that, I had no clue as to what time it was.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“It’s after midnight. With a little money, the hospital let us stay here overnight.” He said.

My eyed widened. “You bribed a hospital?”

“Being famous has its perks.” He winked. “But that’s beside the point. We’re going to grab to get something to eat, do you want to come?” He asked.

I looked over at Patrick, who was still unconscious. “Nah, I’ll stay here. Hospital food sucks ass, anyway.”

He chuckled. “Alright. Give me a call if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Pete.” 

I turned back to Patrick and held his hand once again. “H-hey Patrick.” I gulped. “They say sometimes people in a coma can hear what’s happening around them, so, uh, hi. I really don’t know what to say, but I  _really_  need you right now Patrick. Pete needs you. Andy needs you. Joe needs you. Brendon needs you. We all need you. We all love you. I just- I love you  _so fucking much_ , Patrick. If you can hear this, give me a sign. Squeeze my hand or some shit that happens in romance novels. I just need you.” I cried. Nothing happened. I let go of his hand and buried my head in my own.

I don’t know how long it was, but I heard someone from the door clear their throat. I expected it to be a nurse or Pete or someone. But no.

I turned around to see a girl about Patrick’s age with long, black hair, accompanied by the last person I wanted to see right now.

_My mother._


	26. Chapter Twenty Five

 

I shot up from my chair. “What the hell are you doing here? How did you get in?”

“Don’t worry my dear.” She took a step forward and I took a protective step in front of Patrick’s bed. “Have you met Elisa?”

“Hello, I don’t think we’ve met.” She smiled, extending her hand. Her smile was a sweet, innocent one, yet her eyes shot daggers. If looks could kill, I’d be in Patrick’s state right now.

“No, but I’ve heard much about you,” I said through gritted teeth. I pulled out my phone and texted ‘help” to Pete. “You’re not allowed in here. Leave before I call security.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen.” My mother said as they stepped inside the room, locking the door behind him. “If you could just step to the side-“

“No.” I refused.

She sickly smiled at me. “Please? I just want to take a look at-“

“No. You’re not even allowed to look at him. Either of you. If you do so much as lay a finger on him, I swear to god there is nothing that is going to stop me from killing you.”

She pulled her switchblade from her pocket. Meanwhile, as she had distracted me, Elisa had snuck around me and was behind me, next to Patrick. I spun around when I heard something fall to the floor. Her phone had fallen out of her pocket as she reached for his IV needle.

“What the hell did I just say?” I launched myself at her, pulling her away from him by the hair, causing her to screech. I let go of her with one hand and frantically slammed the ‘call nurse’ button on the side of the hospital bed. Before I knew what was happening, I was being pulled off of her from the back of my shirt, making my collar choke me.

When Elisa turned to face me, I brought back my hand and slapped her across the face as hard as I could. My shirt was let go of and I was pushed to the ground. A foot was placed on my back, and my mother let out a laugh.

“Stop trying to interfere, Skye. It will never work.” She taunted. “My life was a living hell, now I want yours to be. We’re just going to take him away for the rest of his life while torturing him. You’ll have to live without knowing if he’s dead or alive.”

“No!” I screamed. I rolled onto my stomach, causing her to stumble. I grabbed her foot and threw her to the ground, as I scrambled to my feet. I looked back over at Elisa, who was making her way over to Patrick again. I grabbed her arm and tried to throw her to the floor with my mom, but as she was a bit taller than me, I wasn’t able to. We struggled with each other, with our hands on the other’s forearm. She kneed me in the ribs, which still weren’t healed from when my mother attacked me.

I ran back at her. “JUST GIVE UP!” She screamed. “HE’S MINE, YOU CAN’T HAVE HIM!”

“Is this really what this is all about?” I snarled. “Why are you working with her? You’re not like my mom. You’re above her. Just  _grow up,_ move on. Would you really risk going to jail by hurting the person that you think that you love?”

Her face went blank for a moment, and I used that moment to throw her on top of my mother, who was getting up. They both fell to the ground as there was a pounding at the door.

“Skye?” I heard Pete’s voice muffled by the door. “What’s going on?” I ran to the door, but my mom pulled me back again.  _Why can’t the good guy ever win?_

She put a knife to my throat from behind. “It’s two against one, Skye.” She whispered in my ear. “You’ll never win. You never have, and you never will.”

“That’s not what happened yesterday.” I kicked my leg behind me, kicking her in between the legs. It would have been more effective if she were a guy, but it still made her loosen her grip on me and drop the knife. I grabbed it and turned on her, driving the knife into her arm, causing her to let out a shriek of pain and terror.

“YOU LITTLE BITCH!” She screamed. Elisa had noticed what had happened and ran to my mother’s aid. I ran to the door, but Elisa stopped me,  _again_.

“Pete, get security! My mom an-“ My screaming was cut short when Elisa clamped a hand over my mouth.

“Just shut the  _hell_  up! Give up! You won’t win, I don’t see why you keep trying! You’re pathetic and weak, I don’t see why Patrick would ever love you!” She drew a switchblade from her boot with her free hand, similar to one my mom had. She raised her arm up and slammed it into my leg.

I let out a cry of pain as I collapsed in her arms. A fire of pain spread from my thigh. The world stopped for a moment, and I reached down to my leg, thinking that it would stop the pain in some way.

“Pathetic.” Elisa snarled and threw me into a table by the wall. My head slammed into the table, and again on the floor. My vision started to go black around the edges, before it went dark altogether. I could feel the tears falling down my face and pooling around my head on the floor. They were warm and thick, leading me to believe that they weren’t just tears. I must have hit my head into the corner of the table. I blinked rapidly, trying to get my vision back, ignoring the throbbing pain in my head. I tried to let out a scream, but my voice failed me. Everything was failing.

After God knows how long, I was able to get my vision back. I looked over just in time to see my mom and Elisa unhook Patrick from all of his tubes and his heart monitor. They were just beginning to lift him up when the pounding on the door increased.

“Security! Open this door immediately!” A look of panic spread through their eyes, and my mom ran to the window and thrust it open.

“Leave him! We’ll get them back later! Run!” She screamed, and they jumped out of the window onto the fire escape. There was a faint sound of keys as the door was unlocked and flung open. A person ran over to me and grabbed my head in their hands. I heard them say something, but my brain wouldn’t register it as both my vision and my mind went blank.

**_*Pete’s POV*_ **

**_From: Skye_ **

_Help_

I stared at the text in confusion. Why would she need help?

“Pete, what’s up?” Joe asked, noticing my confusion.

“Skye just randomly texted me, saying ‘help’. I told her to text me if anything happened, but I don’t know why she would ask for help.” I explained. I stood up from where we were sitting in the cafeteria. “Well, we better check it out.” They nodded their heads and followed me.

“Hey Pete, you don’t think this could have anything to do with her mom?” Andy asked. I looked at him and my eyes widened, as I realized he was right.

“Shit.” I broke out into a run as I made my way to the elevator, Andy and Joe following close behind. The elevator came quickly, and we slammed the ‘3’ button. We got to her floor, and I tried opening the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

“I think it’s locked,” Joe said.

I rolled my eyes and turned to face him. “No shit, Sherlock.” I turned around to the door and began banging on it. “Skye?” I yelled. “What’s going on?”

She didn’t answer, but not even a minute later, someone let out a blood-curdling shriek from inside.

“One of you go get security!” I yelled behind me as I began pounding on the door harder. I didn’t know who the scream had come from, as I never heard Skye scream before. But I did know that someone was in there with Skye, and that she was in trouble. I heard another scream from inside, and this time I knew it wasn’t Skye, as they were saying something, and I recognized the voice. But it wasn’t Skye.

“Elisa,” Joe whispered. “Shit, this is bad. This is  _really_ bad. Patrick’s in serious trouble.”

“Pete, get security! My mom an-“ I heard Skye’s voice from inside. It was a relief hearing her voice, but my stomach dropped when she mentioned her mom, and again when she was cut off.

“Both her mom and Elisa are in there!” I yelled, not realizing I was crying. “Skye and Patrick are screwed! Security’s gonna open the door and they might as well be dead!”

“Don’t say that-“ Joe was cut off by another scream from inside. This time, it definitely came from Skye. I heard a crash and I began knocking on the door even harder, if that was even possible. “Skye! Open the damn door!”

The elevator opened behind us and Andy, as well as more than a couple police officer’s emerged.

“There’s a patient in there who’s in a medically induced coma and his girlfriend is in there, along with his ex-girlfriend and her abusive mother and there have been screams and crashes coming from inside, and she texted me saying ‘help.’” I explained in one breath to the officers. They nodded their head and pounded on the door.

“Security! Open this door immediately!” There was no response, but from inside, you could hear the faint noise of a heart monitor going flat, and my stomach dropped. The officers drew their guns, as one of them unlocked the door and flung it open.

“All clear!” One yelled. I ran into the room, and one of them stopped me, but I ignored them. Patrick was disconnected from his tubes and heart monitor. On the side of the room, Skye was lying on the ground, with a pool of blood coming from her head and her leg, and there was a switchblade jammed into her thigh. I grabbed her face.

“Skye! Skye, please answer me!” I cried, and her eyes went shut.

“Sir, you have to leave, this is a crime scene.” One of the officers said to me.

“No!’ I cried. “She could be dying right now!”

“And she needs medical attention, so please step out of the room!” I sighed in agreement and left the room, where Joe and Andy were standing.

“How the hell did we get here?”

**_*Skye’s POV*_ **

I couldn’t remember anything.

I couldn’t remember how to open my eyes. I couldn’t remember how I got here, or why I was here. My brain registered the fact that there were people around me, and that I was alive. But that’s about it.

I could hear the faint buzz of machines and voices around me. Where was I?

I finally was able to register one of the voices. “She’s waking up!” Waking up? From what? Who was talking? Wait, was that Pete?

Suddenly, the events of what had happened before came flooding back. The heartbreak of seeing Patrick, broken in a hospital bed. The shock of seeing my mother, and finding out that Elisa was working with her. The pain that I felt when I was stabbed in the leg, and again when my head crashed onto the floor.

I finally remembered how to open my eyes.

Pete’s face lit up. “She’s awake-“

“Where’s Patrick?” I gasped, sitting up. Pete, Joe, Brendon, and Andy were here.

Joe smiled. “He asked the same thing about you when he woke up. He woke up about a half hour ago, he’s taking a statement with the police now. You’ll probably have to do the same later.” As he finished, a doctor walked into the room.

“Hello, Miss Black, I see you’re awake. I’m Dr. McLaren, I have some news for you, do you mind if your friends hear it?” He asked.

I waved it off. “Nah, I’m good.” My voice was still a bit hoarse.

He looked at his clipboard. “You seem to be fine. You were out for a couple of hours, you hit your head pretty hard and lost a lot of blood. You don’t have any brain damage, and the knife didn’t go through your leg too far. You may have to be on crutches, but you should be fine.”

I nodded, and before I could say anything, he spoke again.

“Also, the police would like to take your statement as to what had happened. Would you be alright with that?”

I nodded again, not really in the mood to talk. When he left, there was an eerie silence in the room. Nobody really wanted to say anything. That’s when I realized that Ryan and Rose weren’t here.

“Guys, where are my siblings?” I asked.

Pete spoke. “They’re with Emma. She wanted to come, as did Aaron and Connor, but we made them stay.”

I sighed.

“I just want to go home.”

\-------------------------------

After a painfully long session with the police, I was finally allowed to leave. I changed into my regular clothes, which Pete had thoughtfully brought in a bag for me. I swear, Pete can be such a dad. He takes care of people when they’re sick, he’s always there to give advice, and he has terrible jokes and can’t dance. Yet he’s probably the most immature person I know. We were currently in the elevator, about to leave.

“By the way, Patrick’s still in the same room, we can go visit him-“ Before he finished his sentence, I slammed the ‘3’ button. They all looked at me, and Joe even winked, but all I did was blush.

The elevator doors opened, and all I wanted to do was fling open his door. All that was separating us was a single door. Not wanting to startle him, I knocked on the ajar door, which opened by itself.

Patrick was laying in the bed, asleep, but in a much better state than when I had last seen him. I sat down in the same chair that I did just yesterday. I looked at him and sighed, placing my head in my hands. I know that the others had said that he had woken up, but  _what if he’s not okay? What if he can’t remember anything? What if he can remember the majority of his life, just not the past few months that I had become a part of? What if-_

My thoughts were cut short when I felt somebody tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. I looked up, and Patrick had his hand lying on my shoulder, and he had his goofy smile that I had fallen in love with on his face.

“Hey.”

I practically jumped up from my chair and hugged him tighter than I ever have, yet I still made sure to not squeeze his ribs. “I love you  _so fucking much,_ ” I whispered into his ear, but halfway through my sentence, my voice cracked and I started sobbing.

He hugged me back and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “I love you too, Skye Blu Black.”

I smiled and pulled away from the hug, smiling at him through my tears.

“It’s okay. You’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.” He glided his thumbs across my cheekbones, wiping away my tears. He started to choke up a bit too, and I did the same to him.

“I-“ He started, but paused.  _Shit, what is he about to say?_ “I just, I can’t describe how much I love you, Skye. I don’t really believe in love at first sight, and right before I met you, I convinced myself that I didn’t believe in love. But you changed that. Every time I see you, I just can’t help but smile. They say that right before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. But if you ever notice in movies, only the thing that they love passes before their eyes. And when I was laying in the alley, all I could think about was you. You mean  _the world_  to me Skye, I love you so much. Just remember that.”

Not knowing how to respond, I pulled him into the most passionate kiss of my life.

“I love you too, Patrick Stump.”

 


	27. Epilogue

**_*Five Years Later*_ **

May 27, 2019

The day after my 24th birthday.

7 years since my father was diagnosed with cancer.

6 years and 364 days since my mother began her addiction to alcohol.

5 years and 154 days since my father passed.

5 years and 119 since my mother became abusive.

5 years since I ran off to Chicago

4 years and 364 days since I met Patrick.

The happiest day of my life.

I wish I could say that my life was perfect, that all of my problems had magically vanished over the past 5 years. But I couldn't. But at least I could say that they had faded away, into almost nothing.

I never saw my mother, nor Elisa after the incident at the hospital. The police put a warrant out for their arrests, yet they never found them. The last lead they had was over four years ago when they had supposedly gotten on a flight to Germany. Mr. Sparkson, however, was arrested a few days after the incident in the hospital, for mistreating his employees and working with Elisa, and eventually, my mother as well.

For the year after the incident, I lived in constant fear. I was paranoid that I was going to encounter one of them again. Every face in the crowd, every name in the air had belonged to either Elisa or my mother. But through it all, Patrick was there for me, every step of the way. I had also feared that he would leave me, as being with me put his own life in danger. But he never left my side. Emma had once said, "a person who truly loves you will never let you go, no matter what the situation is." Patrick truly loves me, and I truly love him.

What helped me get over my paranoia was the fact that I had begun to travel. Obsessionz, the band with Aaron, Connor, Emma, and I, had racked up quite the audience on YouTube. Pete had noticed this, and even got letters from the fans telling him about us. Eventually, he signed us to his record label, DCD2. Shortly after signing us, we had found out that we would be opening for Paramore on tour. We were completely ecstatic. Currently, we were opening on tour for Fall Out Boy and Panic! At The Disco, as the two bands loved to tour together, and the first show was tonight, in Chicago. We had already performed, and Panic! was just wrapping up their portion.

"Thank you, Chicago, you guys have been an amazing audience tonight!" Brendon screamed into the microphone. "We have just one last song for you-" The crowd immediately screamed, and from backstage, I could catch a glimpse of the crowd, and a few girls in the front row were sobbing. I don't blame them. "This is I Write Sins, not Tragedies!"

Just as they started the song, a pair of arms snaked around my waist, causing me to jump and let out a small squeal. "Patrick!" I whined. "Stop doing that!"

He just kissed me on my cheek. "Mhm, you know you love it." He mumbled into my shoulder.

I noticed his lack of talking, and how he buried his face into my shoulder. I started walking away from the stage, taking his hand. We walked into one of the dressing rooms, so he could actually hear me. His eyes darted around rapidly, and he wouldn't make eye contact. I rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" I asked. He just nodded.

"Yeah, just...uh, nervous." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked at the floor, biting his lips.

"Are you sure?" I asked again. "You normally don't get this nervous before a show."

"Yeah, but this one's special, it's Chicago and it's the first night of the tour... and... yeah." I continued to look at the ground for a minute, before finally looking up. "You love me, right?" He asked.

"Of course, why?" I was confused as to why he would ask me that.

"Because... I gotta go get ready for the show." He said, noting that Panic! had finished. He ran out of the room, and down the hall.

 _That wasn't weird at all._  I thought, walking back to the backstage area.

"Great show tonight," Emma said to Brendon as he walked off. He immediately wrapped her in a hug. "No, gross, go take a shower!" She squealed.

"No, I'm sweaty and gross, and I wanna  _make love to you._ " He said, making her burst out laughing. I put my hands over my ears.

"Ew, gross! Too much information, get a room, you two!" Yes, the two of them started dating about 4 months after the incident at the hospital. It came as a  _huge_  surprise to all of us. Note the sarcasm.

\-----------------------

Fall Out Boy had about 2 songs left before they finished the show, so I ran off from where I was watching them from the backstage area, and into my band's dressing room.

"Hey guys, they're playing Centuries right now. They only have Saturday and Sugar We're Going Down before the thing." I announced to the rest of the band. Aaron and Connor hadn't heard a single word, as they were too busy making out in the corner of the room. They came out to the public and the fans almost 3 years ago, 2 years after we got signed to Pete's label. By that time, all but 5 states had legalized gay marriage, and it wasn't as controversial anymore. The press took it well, and the fans ship them so much, it's not even funny. Now, with gay marriage legal, the two of them talked about it often.

I turned to Emma, who was just sitting on her phone. "How are you even in the same room as the, when they're practically having sex with each other?" She just shrugged. I rolled my eyes and threw the nearest object at the two of them, which just happened to be a pillow.

"What the hell?" Aaron yelled.

"Fall Out Boy is playing Saturday now. They only have Sugar We're Going Down left." I said, annoyed with them.

We grabbed our instruments and headed backstage, and after the tech crew plugged in our guitars, they had just finished Sugar We're Going Down. They pushed out an extra drum kit and mics onto the stage, and you could hear the crowd begin to murmur in confusion. With the spotlight on Fall Out Boy, the rest of us snuck out onto the stage, as Fall Out Boy began to play, and we were invisible to the crowd.

_"Hey, girl, you know you drive me crazy_

_one look puts the rhythm in my hand._

_Still I'll never understand why you hang around_

_I see what's going down._

 

_Cover up with makeup in the mirror_

_tell yourself, it's never gonna happen again_

_You cry alone and then he swears he loves you."_

 

That's when the lights went up, and the four of us began to play. The crowd went absolutely insane, as I joined in with Patrick on the vocals.

_"Do you feel like a man when you push her around?_

_Do you feel better now as she falls to the ground?_

_Well, I'll tell you my friend, one day this world's gon' to end_

_as your lies crumble down, a new life she has found."_

 

Patrick stepped away from the mic and I began to sing the next verse.

_"A pebble in the water makes a ripple effect_

_every action in this world will bear a consequence_

_If you wade around forever, you will surely drown_

_I see what's going down._

 

_I see the way you go and say you're right again,_

_say you're right again_

_Heed my lecture."_

 

Instead of returning to his microphone stand, Patrick went up to mine, and joined me in the chorus.

_"Do you feel like a man when you push her around?_

_Do you feel better now as she falls to the ground?_

_Well, I'll tell you my friend, one day this world's gon' to end_

_as your lies crumble down, a new life she has found_

 

_Face down in the dirt,_

_she said, "This doesn't hurt",_

_she said, "I finally had enough."_

 

_Face down in the dirt,_

_she said, "This doesn't hurt",_

_she said, "I finally had enough."_

 

Aaron and Pete began screaming the next part, and you could hear every fangirl in the audience completely lose it.

" _One day she will tell you that she has had enough_

_He's coming round again."_

 

 

In the middle of Aaron's screaming, Connor ran up to him and planted a kiss on the cheek. I laughed as the fangirls in the audience screamed even louder, if that was even possible. Patrick did the same to me, and I blushed, as he returned to his original mic stand as we finished the song together.

_"Do you feel like a man when you push her around?_

_Do you feel better now as she falls to the ground?_

_Well, I'll tell you my friend, one day this world's gon' to end_

_as your lies crumble down, a new life she has found_

 

_Do you feel like a man when you push her around?_

_Do you feel better now as she falls to the ground?_

_Well, I'll tell you my friend, one day this world's gon' to end_

_as your lies crumble down, a new life she has found_

 

_Face down in the dirt,_

_she said, "This doesn't hurt",_

_she said, "I finally had enough."_

 

The crowd was absolutely insane. So many people had taken out cameras and recorded it. It was one hell of a way to end a night.

"In case you guys didn't recognize them, I'd like to welcome Obsessionz back to the stage!" Pete said in the mic.

"Now, we've played every single song for tonight, but we have just one thing left to say," Connor said. I looked at him, confused. What the hell was he going to do now?

"By 'we', we mean Patrick," Pete said. "And for all of you who just put away your cameras, I would take them back out, as you guys might want to record this."

The lights dimmed and I was still really confused. Everyone else on stage was smirking and either winking at me or Patrick, while Patrick was practically shaking. He set his guitar on the floor and held the mic.

"Well, there's this girl who thinks I'm a conceited bastard and the only listen I listen to is my own. Well, that's wrong, because I also listen to her music." The crowd laughed. "Anyway, the first time I saw this girl, I was like, 'wow, she's just...wow.' She was playing the guitar and singing at the time, and I just thought she was extremely talented, had awesome taste in music, and she was just beautiful. Later, when she told me she was even better at bass than guitar, I was like 'no way, that's not possible', but it was. Before meeting her, I thought that love was impossible. I had completely given up on it. But she changed that, and ever since I saw her 4 years and 364 days ago, I fell more and more in love with her every day, and I still do. I love her more than anything in the world. I would give up anything if it meant making her happy. Her smile is the cutest thing ever, it's a bit lopsided and goes higher on her left side, and it's adorable. It's just one of the many things that I love about her, and that I always will love about her. She's had a rough life, and she doesn't always believe that the good people will stay that way, but I promise that I will always be the good guy. I promise that I will always be there for her. I promise that I will always love her. I promise her all of these things, through thick and thin. I love her so much, words can't even describe how much I love her. Every day I find myself proving that I do. I couldn't imagine life without her. She is the only thing that I could ever ask for. If I had to spend the rest of my life with only one person, I would choose her in a heartbeat. And everything that I am saying right now is cheesy and cliché and is probably boring you guys to death, but I swear I mean every single word of it. Now, you guys all know this girl as Skye Blu Black."

He turned to face me, and I had the biggest smile on my face. My stomach flipped with every word he said, and I felt like a teenage girl.

"And now, I just have one question for this girl." He placed the microphone on his stand, and he reached into his pocket. In one slow but swift move, he dropped to one knee and pulled out a black velvet box, opening it to reveal a diamond ring.

"Will you marry me?"

My hands immediately flew to my mouth, as I realized what he was doing. I removed them, trying to speak, but no words would come out, as I had begun to choke up. If you had asked me to put how I felt into words right now, I would tell you that it was impossible. If you imagined every good thing in your life happening at once, times a million, that's how I felt right now.

I couldn't speak, so I just nodded as I let the tears fall freely down my face. The crowd began to scream, and I finally managed to speak. "Yes, yes, a million times yes!"

He stood up and pulled me into a quick kiss, as I went deaf from the amount of screaming in the audience. He pulled away and slipped the ring onto my left hand. I bit my lip and smiled, barely able to see the ring, as my eyes were clouded with tears. Patrick grazed his thumbs across my cheeks, wiping them away, but they just kept coming.

"Why are you crying?" He asked, his forearms still linked with mine. Pete had subtly placed a microphone stand in front of us so the audience would hear. By subtly, I meant that he fell on the way over here.

"Because I love you." I cried. He pulled me into the best kiss that I have ever had in my life.

"I love you too."

They say that life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain.

And I've finally found someone to dance with.

 

**_The End._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading my story!
> 
> I'm still in the process of moving my works to AO3, so you can find the rest of them on my Wattpad:  
> https://www.wattpad.com/user/MrBendezedrine


	28. Deleted Scenes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading my story!
> 
> I'm still in the process of moving my works to AO3, so you can find the rest of them on my Wattpad:  
> https://www.wattpad.com/user/MrBendezedrine

\- Connor was supposed to be the drummer and Emma was the guitarist but I fucked up.

\- But female drummers are rad and yeah.

\- Mr. Sparkson was the guy in the alley who beat up Skye that one time. I forgot to bring this up in later chapters.

\- Mr. Sparkson was the one who had told Skye's mother about her being in Chicago.

\- Aaron has sleeves of tattoos.

\- Skye is the only one from a suburb and not a city (Emma is from Boston, and Connor and Aaron are from Chicago)

\- Skye was going to wear Ryan Ross style eyeliner on stage.

\- Skye, Ryan and Rose were going to have PTSD. I only put a few signs in there, I would have gone into more detail, but with everything else going on it was a lot.

\- More songs that I was going to quote were:  _Part II_  by Paramore and  _Welcome To My Life_  by Simple Plan.

\- Pete was originally supposed to be hospitalized towards the end of the story.

\- This was either going to be in place of Patrick being hospitalized, or right before it.

\- I never planned to make the story more than 20 chapters long.

\- If anyone has seen Key & Peele Substitute teacher (I'll put it on the side), you'll know what I'm talking about here: I JUST REALIZED LIKE A FEW DAYS AGO THAT I SHOULD HAVE MADE SKYE CALL AARON AYE-AYE-RON

\- Out of all of the band names I thought of, the first half were from songs and the next half were from the interwebs.

\- The different band names I thought of were: 16 Candles, Misguided Ghosts, Firefly, Love Drunk, Me Afraid, Revolution, Not Real, Yellow Fever, Harmful If Swallowed, 7 Days A Week, Patent Pending, Ministry of Magic.

\- There were like 20 different titles I wanted to use for this but I don't know where I put the list (This is why I use a notebook now)

\- I'm currently in the process of trying to get rid of every typo so if you see this story updates it probably isn't really, sorry.

\- I never realized how big this story would get.

\- Seriously the epilogue has over 200 comments.

\- And if you search Fall Out Boy on wattpad it's #15, and if you search Patrick Stump it's #15. It changes a lot, but it's usually in that range, which means it's either at the bottom of the first page or the top of the second. (15 per page)

\- Emma is bi curious

\- Emma was going to kiss Skye, I never decided if it should be when she was drunk or if when she was sober, and ended up leaving it out.

\- I was supposed to do a couple more Aaron or Connor POVs

\- Connor isn't played by Connor Franta sorry. If you go back to Chapter Fourteen, Skye describes Connor's appearance.

\- Skye was going to get her period in the middle of the night and would have to run out and buy pads and shit at 2 AM because she lives with 2 guys.

\- Patrick was then gonna wake up and see blood on her sheets and she was gone and he was going to freak out.

\- Skye was going to freak out about something and get really stressed and then leave for the entire day and visited her Dad's grave.

\- I laughed at everyone who got either really mad or emotional in the comments. Oops, am I a mean person?

\- This was the first completed fanfic/story I wrote.

 

**Sequel** **(there will not be one, but these are some things that may have happened if there were a sequel) :**

\- The sequel was going to be called 'Looking Up' 

\- It would take place in 2019 and follow the characters on tour.

\- Obsessionz was gonna be opening for a triple co-header thing, with Fall Out Boy, Panic! At The Disco, and My Chemical Romance.

\- My Chemical Romance gets back together like, 3 months before the tour and just drops this kick ass album that's better than The Black Parade, if that's even possible.

\- Patrick wouldn't have proposed to Skye until the last stop on tour.

\- In that last bullet, I almost wrote Skype. Oops.

\- Ryan and Rose would be staying with Meagan (who Pete married) with Bronx and Saint.

\- I LITERALY JUST FUCKING REALIZED THAT RYAN AND ROSE SOUNDS LIKE RYAN ROSS.

\- Brendon and Emma had a secret relationship for like 4 or 5 years, and they were found making out on one of the busses.

\- Pye was gonna do the frickle frackle and Skye was going to get pregnant.

\- Skye was then going to have a miscarriage (Sad, I know. I might do another fanfic on this in the future. Brendon Urie maybe?)

\- Skye finds out that she can never have kids.

\- Basically all the songs that Obsessionz writes are really by Yellowcard so Yellowcard doesn't exist.

\- Pete grows his hair longer like it was in his 'emo' phase and keeps dying it different colors.

\- Skye's hair goes back to brown, but she always has a different colored streak in it.

\- Skye finds out that her mother was shot and killed in a shooting in Germany, and she doesn't know how to react because she's finally safe from her mom, but she realizes she has no family left, because both parents were only siblings, and her grandparents had died in previous years.

\- In the epilogue, Patrick and Skye adopt kids.


End file.
